The Fourth Universe
by Edward George
Summary: The powers to be the DOD and the CIA have a mission for MSG Brian Lee: help a politically suppressed race of extra-terrestrial beings NASA discovered through a hole in the galaxy on a planet several hundred light years away. Mission impossible? Maybe.
1. Chapter 2

You wouldn't think the clocks and calendars around the world just kicked over to the 21st Century as Master Sgt. Brain Lee, a retired US Army, Black Beret chaperons a NASA Space Wing ridding piggy-back on an obsolete Shuttle craft across eons of space and time toward a hole in the universe and a time continuum realm. The powers to be have a mission for him: help a politically suppressed race of extra-terrestrial beings NASA discovered through a hole in the galaxy on a planet several hundred light years away. Mission impossible? Maybe.

1.

"Master Sergeant Brian Lee, please," the Army officer said without a smile or 'Hello how are you' to the receptionist as he and the others crowded into the foyer.

Barbara Mahoney was briefly stunned as seven people led by Army and Air Force officers stepped in through the open front door of Green Meadows retirement home. They stopped at the reception counter nodding to Barbara.

Barbara looked at two FBI agents, two Secret Service Agents, and a CIA officer and two scientists from NASA, the federal agents seemed to look though her as she tried to get her thoughts together.

"Of – of course. Um, please sign the book if you will, gentlemen - and lady."

The other two ladies behind the counter stared after the group as Barbara stepped out of the reception area, the eight ignored the sign in book. Barbara stepped out from behind the counter leading them along a maze of corridors to the second floor and Room 220.

"Um, this is his room. Anything else?" she asked nervously glancing at the agents who were watching the passing nurses warily.

A passing nurse stopped to look from the agents to Barbara Mahoney with concern averting her eyes she hurried along the hall to the stairs.

The CIA officer said, "We cannot be disturbed."

"Certainly. I shall let the staff know immediately."

They waited until she was turning to the stairwell the Army officer knocked vigorously on the door.

"Enter. Door's open," a rough sounding voice called. "We don't stand on ceremony around here."

Brian Lee turned from the window in the wheel chair as the group entered.

"Master Sergeant Lee," the Colonel said as Lee tried standing to salute the Army officer out of habit. "Please, that's okay, Sergeant."

"Colonel? Colonel Grey? Damn look who they finally promoted." The two old friends from the 503rd greeted each other and shook hands. To the CIA agent lifting a hand to wave, "Hi Bob."

The other barely acknowledge him.

The agent's flashed badges in front of Brian, he noted their departments. He'd forget their names five minutes after they walked out the door. He watched as the CIA officer opened the door to check the hall. Closing the door he nodded.

Brian watched the CIA officer nodding to the others. "Well first I should ask, who's helping who here?"

"This is a mutual situation Sergeant." The CIA officer said walking to the bed with no smile. "You've been selected for a highly secret mission and only a selected number of people are in the know. And nothing will be leaked to the media. They're the last who will know."

Brian Lee held up a hand stopping them. Glancing around the room at the assembled agents, he said, "Okay, gentlemen now obviously there is a short fall here. How am I supposed to lead a mission which I shall say I was selected with a bum back and bad legs? Anybody think that far?"

The CIA agent replied in a droll tone, "The CIA doctors can cure your legs and back with a non-evasive operations."

"You'll be laid up for a while," the Air Force officer said laying a short agenda out for Brian, "but it won't be non-productive time. People will work with you preparing you for the mission. And there will be briefings from experts and if necessary they'll come to your room."

"Excuse me, Colonel but do you know the definition of expert?" Brian grinned at the joke. Everyone looked at each other for the answer.

"Well, Ted you just walked into that one with your eyes wide open," said Colonel Grey with a knowing smile. He'd heard it before from Master Sergeant Lee.

Brian said with a laugh, "X is the mathematical symbol for the unknown. Spurt is a large drip of water; therefore, an expert is a large unknown drip. Okay, what's the mathematical chances of a success on this mission?"

The CIA officer ignored the obvious joke.

The two NASA scientists suddenly felt uncomfortable. The Air Force officer didn't know whether to say anything else or not. The CIA officer nodded. The Air Force officer said, "We don't know. It's up to you to make it – or break it."

"Wonderful. Any idea who these people are I have to deal with?"

"That is all classified. You will learn all that later." He said in a flat tone picking up the thread of the briefing. "You'll be given a separate suite that will be secure. The mission will be titled Code Name: Lafayette."

Lee was unimpressed. "Lovely name. Okay so this is a scratch my back, I scratch yours where it itches most. Obviously I've just been drafted. What do you want me to do?"

The two officers looked at each other for a minute unsure how to answer. Brian had a feeling just by the code name this was an insurgency job. He was to train somebody in what they should have known already. 'Maybe the Syrian rebels? Kind of what the Marquis Gilbert de Lafayette of France did for the American struggle for freedom. However, the Marquis had a hidden agenda few were aware of at the time – get back at Britain for the French losing their Quebec Territory in Canada.

"I suppose you're going to have a lot of questions, Sergeant Lee," Colonel Grey said looking down at him.

"To say the least, yes sir. So, I also take it you guys are here to spring me from this gulag, my lovely daughters stuck me in, right?"

At that moment there was another knock at the door. The FBI agents had their hands on their guns as the Secret Service agents opened the door but a crack. The name, 'Lafayette' was spoken in a hushed tone.

The Air Force Colonel said, "You're sprung now, Sergeant."

An agent replied, "Gilbert."

Brian rolled his eyes. He never did get used to this drama even in the Army. To him it seemed a bit put on. "Okay, guys let's get this dog and pony act on the road."

Four men entered the room one pushing a hand cart. The agent at the door could see the receptionist retreating down the hallway.

They had Brian packed in a few minutes and wheeled down the hallway to the elevator. The receptionist and nurses watched as Brian waving to them and singing, Willie Nelson's 'On the Road Again, I just can't wait to get on the road again…!' was wheeled out the door to the van. His personal things loaded in another van. An agent returned the empty wheel chair to the front desk and left.

The nurses and receptionist knew better than to say anything, not with all the heavy federal agents in attendance.

2.

Two days later Brian was lying face down in the special surgery at the CIA's hospital unit in Langley, Va. Using highly accurate laser guided instruments, the place they had to begin the surgery on his spine at the base of his neck. The surgery required an incision less than an inch long which was easily covered with one small Band-Aid when they finished. The sight of the barely visible scar when compared to traditional open back surgery's 5 to 6-inch incision was less damaging and less chance of problems. The two surgeons completed the work in less than four hours. They waited two days before working on his legs where he was hit by machine gun fire.

While he convalesced after the first and most important operation a team of physicists and astronomers were escorted to the suit set aside for him. The suite was bigger than the room he had at the nursing home, a shoe box in disguise.

Following breakfast, for Brian a hard roll and mug of coffee. He finally had to show the staff how to make the coffee to his liking – strong. Otherwise, he could have, within reason anything he wanted to eat, read, music. He was being treated like a VIP – which the doctors of astronomy and physics where doing. After breakfast there was a brief knock at the door. It opened:

"Sergeant, I have the physicists from NASA to see you." The chief nurse said past the open door.

Brian turned the wheel chair away from the window holding his hand out to the doctors. Shaking hands he stopped coming eye-to-eye with a good looking brown eyed brunette. He wanted to ask what her background was but kept himself in check. He smiled, giving her hand a slight squeeze. "Welcome."

"Astronomer," she said as if reading his mind assuring he understood what her role was.

There were two astrophysicists, the lady who was an astronomer, and another Doctor who was head of NASA's theoretical physics and cosmology departments, all of three and another lady who was a paleontologist and social worker from Harvard. A CIA director was in charge of the group.

Extra chairs were quickly brought into the room for everyone. The door opened one more time a nurse hurried in with a hot air pot with coffee and cups.

"Sorry folks the Sergeant cannot survive without his coffee." She breezed in with the air pot and cups, set it on the table and left with the empty pot.

CIA agents secured the door standing outside in the hallway.

The director waited until the door was closed to begin. In a solemn tone he said, "Sergeant, what you have been chosen for is a very top secret mission. What you have been chosen for, Sergeant Lee is a very dangerous job, you could say this is a one-way suicide mission.

"Coffee anybody?" Lee ignoring the group moved his coffee mug to the pot. He'd heard that line of reasoning before. The group shook their heads. Pouring himself another mug of coffee, the size of a soup bowl, Brian sampled it. "Not bad. Well, if the mission – whatever don't kill me, then the coffee will." He took another sip of the coffee. "So you're saying this is a one-way trip, all expenses paid joy ride to hell and back is a suicide mission al a cart, eh? I've heard that before. So what do I have to do that involves a couple physicists, an astronomer, and whoever else here?"

Dr. Bernhard the astrophysicist glanced toward the Director. "Sergeant do you know what Black Holes and Worm Holes are – I suppose?"

"Heard of them. Didn't spend a whole lot of time on the subject. As Black Berets we didn't need to. But go on."

"Okay, let's try to keep this simple. A **black hole** is a region of space-time from which gravity prevents anything, including light, from escaping. Wormholes on the other hand officially known as an Einstein–Rosen bridge, is a hypothetical  topological feature of space-time that would fundamentally be a shortcut through space-time. A wormhole is much like a tunnel with two open ends, each in separate points in space-time. For a simplified notion of a wormhole, visualize space as a two-dimensional surface. In this case, a wormhole can be pictured as a hole in that surface that leads into a 3D tube (the inside surface of a cylinder). This tube then re-emerges at another location on the two-dimensional surface with a similar hole as the entrance or exit. An actual wormhole would be analogous to this, but with the spatial dimensions raised by one. For example, instead of circular holes on a two-dimensional plane, a real wormhole's mouths could be spheres in three- dimensional space."

There was silence for a moment. It was said you could have dropped a pin in the room it would have sounded like a bomb going off. Brian set the empty mug down. "Okay, Doc if you say so. Now what does all this confusion have to do with me and whatever the mission is I have been chosen for?"

Doctor Mary Kelly, the astronomer said picking up the discussion, "What Dr. Bernhard is describing is a hole through space – possibly our universe to another. That's explaining it as simple as we can. The probes have allowed us a picture window view on another galaxy – or universe – world. Probes have successfully traveled from our galaxy to this other world system and back over the past four years. No problem."

"A hole in space? The legendary back door to another universe often talked about in sci-fi and fantasy books?"

"Yes. But more than that." Doctor Howard said pressing on. "The worm-hole she is eluding to as a hole you could equate it to an old fashion key hole has opened up a portion of space in the vicinity of the Gemini Constellation. We don't know for how long it will last. But we do know this you can fly a fleet of space craft through it."

"That's nice, Doctor but you still haven't answered my question. Why me and what am I – supposed to do with this worm-hole if you will?"

Brian sensed everyone took a deep breath before continuing on. So far they were beating around the subject, not coming straight out telling him what they wanted. The hesitation told him volumes, he was expected to make a one-way trip through a worm hole in space for some reason; albeit, a suicide mission.

Dr. Marion Schaffer said picking up the tread of the briefing, "An opening in space was discovered some years ago – worm holes until than the holes were little better than a mathematical theory. NASA sent two probes up disguised as weather satellites that were subsequently lost in space. Which they were not. The probes are equipped to send and receive signals from the worm holes. Both probes made it to the holes four years ago. Granted there has been a tremendous lag time in the signals reaching us, but it's the best we can work with at this time. They found a planetary system on the other side of the hole not too much unlike ours. The environment is identical to Earth's. However, there's a catch."

"Which is …?" Brian said pouring himself another mug of coffee. "There usually is. But go on."

"This planetary system we're calling Pandora we think there has been civil unrest and it may lead to a war."

Brian sipped the coffee more to prevent himself from openly laughing. He was far from impressed by the sound of this mission. "Think? In other words, you're telling me this can turn into a useless all expenses paid trip for nothing."

Dodging the comment, Dr. Schaffer said, "We're still waiting on more data from the probes."

Setting the mug on the table laughing, he said, "What do think we've been doing for the last ten years, playing grab ass with the Al-Qaida and Taliban, and their kissing buddies the ISIS? We have just as many problems here. Why go running all over the galaxy chasing after – what could turn into a 'red herring' operation?"

"The point is, Sergeant," Dr. Winter said patiently, "from images transmitted back from this world by the probes this appears to be an advanced civilization which has not reached the advanced stages of space travel yet. If they did it has been lost in an ancient war."

"To answer your question, Sergeant," Dr. Timothy Charles said in a condescending tone, "Yes, admittedly we have problems here too. But if we can help someone else, even an extra-terrestrial race such as the people of Pandora, maybe a mutual benefit will arise from this mission."

Brian was afraid of the answer he would get in response to his next question. He knew they wouldn't be standing in his room if they weren't serious about this mission. And he wasn't being given much of a choice in this either. "That's nice, now what do you guy's – and gals expect out of me?"

Dr. Winter said with a flat tone, "To travel through the worm hole to the other world and help the rebels."

Brian felt as if he had the wind was knocked out of him with a sucker punch. "Wait a minute. What makes them so special that someone needs to go through this worm hole to act like the Marquis Lafayette to these people? What if when I get there they tell me – our war, take a hike, Jack?"

"We've thought of that." The CIA Director said speaking up for the first time. "Once you've demonstrated your skills it will not take much to convince them you're on their side. A couple successful operations and you're in like Flynt."

"Um, wait a minute guys, if you've forgotten I'm retired. When did I raise my right hand again to reenlist in the Army?"

"The day we picked you up from the retirement home in Colorado," the Director told him.

"Oh thanks for telling me about that small item. You're awfully darn confident this will work. And doing it at arms-length across a couple galaxies no-less."

"We're confident it will work."

"You guys have told me that before too."

3.

The starkness of the recovery room was like a blank movie screen. He lay partly in and partly out of consciousness still recovering from the first phase of the surgery. The recovery time took longer than the surgery. ' _Like some shows on television, the commercials last longer than the show._ '

' _One way. No way back, no getting the job over with and come home. I'll be stuck there for life. The man without a country – or world to go home to_.'

Following breakfast he was taken down to the third floor where a conference room was commandeered by the group and Brian moved into it in a wheel chair. The afternoon session he was shown some of the first images of the planet or world they dubbed Pandora.

"Why Pandora?" he asked looking at a close up of the planet.

"Surprises."

There was not much Brian could say to the comment except, "Really."

Doctor Charles, the paleontologist got up picking up the remote control, thumbing the switch he began, "The system is not much unlike ours. The sun, a first magnitude and the planet a G-type gravity pull the same. Except for the geological makeup of the continents Pandora is identical to ours, oxygen, the various inert gases, water, and so-forth. The names of Pandora and the forgoing continents and cities we liberally borrowed from our own galaxy and star systems. A few may be familiar to you. There are five major continents, the one we're interested in, number four of the five, Rigel we call it is where the conflict is occurring. What we have been able to observe of Rigel and its society to date is a 'haves and have not' people. We've noticed a vast difference between their capital city we call, Cannes to include ten major cities, a megalopolis, a marked economic and social difference which we see as a contributing factor to the civil unrest. The great divide in their society."

Brian stared at the video screen which showed the city of Cannes than a rural town one of many that reminded him of a town they could have plucked out of the coal mining hills of West Virginia. "You said there were five continents, what about the others? What are they doing?"

"Apparently they are stable at this time. But then that can change over time."

"What are they doing to help?"

"We don't know."

The Doctor flicked the slides until he showed a close up of a group of the natives.

"We believe these are the rebels." He flipped through several more slides and two short videos. "They're roughly five-five in stature, part simian, part human, or humanoid."

"And the so-called opposition?"

He flipped over to show the mid-town portion of a city. "Human-like. Just about everything we have on Earth they appear to have."

"That could become an understatement, Doc."

"Stature of the human type species averages six foot or roughly seventy-two inches."

Brian looked at the notes on the pad of paper he was keeping track of. Next to him was his ever present hot-air pot of coffee. There was coffee for the others, but to Brian, it was not strong enough to suit his taste.

"Do those other continents appear as screwed up as this one?"

"No. Sirius for example appears just the opposite. A good economy, the social structure appears stable. But that is saying under the surface there isn't political problems or some kind of unrest which plaques every social structure."

Sipping his coffee as a way to give him time to think Brian sensed a missing link in the structure of their briefing. It was always the missing link in any briefing before a major operation that causes problems.

"Where are they at now – socially – politically, probably your guess is as good as mine, right?"

"Rigel - Politically, we can only guess from observation – a poor state of affairs exists."

4.

The surgery on Brian's legs took four and a half hours, he was still out by lunch time. The surgery and recovery took the better part of the day, the time gave the briefing team a chance to study new material the probes were able to send back through the hole.

The CIA Director zoomed the image to the closest he could get it. Aerial photography experts along with the physicists and astronomers met in another conference room of the sprawling complex.

"It's hard to tell at this point but it appears there has been a lull in the rebellion, which isn't saying either side is not planning their next move," Dr. Winter said gesturing to the aerial image of Cannes. "Now remember we're talking about a lag time of several hundred light years."

The CIA Director rubbed a hand over his mouth. Looking at the program manager he said, "He's being operated on right now as we speak. The surgeon estimates two weeks recovery and therapy. How soon after that can you have Sergeant Lee ready to go to this Pandora?"

The scientist looked at each other than Winter said, "Possibly a month."

"A month!"

"Flight training," said Dr. Kelly surprised by the Director's reaction as if he was not already aware of that small detail.

"He is flight trained on everything from C130's to C141's and in between. Only thing he hasn't flown is F16's. A week for the Shuttle I can see."

"Oh," said Winter. "He is …"

"Yeah, flight qualified. Black Berets like most Delta Force hold dual Commissions in the Army and Air Force."

That revelation changed everything for the scientists.

The briefing team sat around the conference table looking at the video screen. Dr. Mary Kelly watched Brian out of the corner of an eye. Lee appeared hung over, the after effects and reaction to the drugs the **anesthesiologist** gave him prior to the surgery and afterward.

Brian poured himself another cup coffee as Dr. Winter and an intelligence officer, an expert in aerial photography briefed him on the updates. The NASA and the CIA were pulling in updates from the probe as fast as the system allowed. "So as far as you know, sir nothing of significance has happened since last week?"

"No. We're still tracking developments as we speak, Sergeant." He glanced at the Director. One term, among many Brian hated was 'as we speak.' To Brian the term had little use and no relevance.

"Okay, the Director knows and I guess Dr. Winter knows, I am being fast tracked through therapy to get me out of this wheel chair by next week. Familiarization with the Shuttle down in Houston at Jet Propulsion Labs then on to Cape Kennedy the week after that. I know you guys have other ideas for me. What do you have?"

"We'll keep up with the briefings until the day you leave," said Dr. Winter.

Brian turned to the Director nodding, "I guess that about wraps things at this end sir."

Brian sat in the easy chair in front of the window sans the wheel chair. There was no such thing as an eight – five job with the CIA. The Langley Headquarters was operational twenty-four – seven. Constantly monitoring the Middle East was worse than the mess in the sixties and seventies the Russians and Chinese when he was in Germany and Korea.

Holding his coffee mug like he was holding a warm chipmunk close to his chest, he conjured up the image of his dear wife. Maryann who was now gone these five years, almost before he had a chance to realize his retirement from the Army. They were going to enjoy traveling together – see Europe and visit their old stomping grounds. Then the love of his life, his twin daughters, when they were five, they were miniatures of Maryann, to include temperament, especially Mary. He remembered the episode she went through two years ago explaining to him, 'why thou shalt live in a retirement home.' She was definitely her mother's daughter. Just like her mother. Maybe of the two that is why he favored Mary the most.

Brian with the twins and his grandchildren spent a day together – with their CIA chaperons in the interior gardens. The CIA brought them specially to say good-bye to the last attachment he would have to Earth; the girls understood – not only was it his duty, but one last chance to get a job done. When it was time to leave at six that evening the girls clung to him one last time.

The Gulfstream II Shuttle Training Aircraft (STA) a C11a training craft was flying close to the edge of space, Major Brian Lee scanned his instruments then glanced out the cockpit wind screen looking at the cobalt blue sky. Seated in the co-pilot's seat was Major Anna Dell watching Brian as he flew the Gulfstream C11a like a shuttlecraft.

"You're pretty good at flying. Do it much?" Major Dell said looking out the windscreen at the few stars visible.

"As much as our missions called for."

"How do you like the Gulfstream, Major?" a Captain asked.

"This? Like flying a C141 with two HUMVEEs, a Duce and a half, and two sticks of Black Berets along for the ride."

Major Dell looked back at the other, "Answer your question?"

A loud bang shook the Shuttle craft training building at the Jet Propulsion Labs in Houston. The astronaut students and facility gritted their teeth. Brian Lee just crash landed the Shuttle trainer a.k.a. the Space Wing for the second time that day. Crash landing the Space Wing was not a bad thing that's what he would have to do once he reached Pandora and his target destination. But the trick was to make it a "gentle" crash landing. So far as the instructors and veteran astronauts were concerned, the extra-terrestrials would be scrapping him up with a spoon instead.

Looking around the chamber at the NASA facility at the Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Brian reasoned 'there was no such thing as a free lunch' all this was coming with a price tag. The CIA medical staff did what the VA doctors failed to do. The civilian doctors back home were too busy with other patients to give more than a passing look at his problem. Between the two he would have been crippled for life. The CIA people worked miracles getting him to walk. They worked out exercises for him during his waking hours during the trip to Pandora. He wondered what the real name of the planet was.

There was a neat hand off from the CIA to NASA. He was given a luxury apartment at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. He spent his final days with the NASA team poring over dozens of images the probes sent back. Some of the images they could have done better using Google Earth.

Brian was shown a set of images of the inside of both craft and hatches that were cut into the floor of the craft.

"I'll put this bluntly Major," said a CIA officer showing him slides of the two craft, "both craft are booby-trapped with two, two hundred pound Air Force bombs." He held up a set of keys. Brian's face went pale. He would be riding on top of a set of flying booby-traps. "Once on the ground and the craft is emptied of everything you need arm the bombs. Period. This one is to open the cover, the other is to arm them. Twist the key and pull the pin. Once armed leave them alone. Close the cover lock it and walk away. Anyone attempting to move the craft – Boom, they get their ass blown away. That simple. You cannot disarm them, if you do – Boom."

The briefing was a sobering thought on the critical nature the mission had taken on.

Now all Brain could do was sit in his room and wait. In the past hour Brain watched the sky change to an angry iron gray shade before descending to a dull black laying its ancient shroud over the land one more time. In another several years he'd be looking at a different night sky.

Tonight was his last night on Earth. No fanfare, no well wishes. The orbiter and Shuttle and Wing had been set up in the past two days on an isolated launch pad. No one to see the launch, only the launch team. He was drinking another beer when there was a light knock at the door.

"Open, Enter."

The door opened Dr. Mary Kelly entered closing it. She reached behind her locking the door. Brian watched the black rain coat slid to the floor revealing a black baby doll. "A little sendoff farewell gift for you, Major."

The launch of the Space Wing in tandem with one of the old Shuttles, he never did learn which one would be a first for everybody. Brian wondered how they – the CIA and NASA was pulling that off. The launch was being made at his favorite hour – two A.M. on a Wednesday. Good hour, good day. There was no fanfare, no brass bands – nothing. Nobody was telling anybody about this, least of all the President and Congress – or the nosey news media. Neither Agency was saying a thing to anybody outside selected members of those two agencies – people with big mouths, especially the news media, they'd blab it all over the place, they were excluded and not told a thing. If and when they did find out it'd be too late anyway. " _Who – what are you talking about?_ "

The Orion Crew Exploration Vehicle with Shuttle and Space Wing left Earth orbit and shot straight out of the system leaving Earth far behind. Major Brian Lee would have a long nap in a special couch that was installed for him to act as the cybernetics and emergency escape capsule if needed. Brian figured ' _fat chance I'll live to see that happen_ ' was placed in deep sleep by the NASA launch team two hours before liftoff. The rocket was being launched regardless. The only things to hold it up was a Florida style hurricane, or tornado.

He slept through the launch and the exit from the Sol-Terra System. He was equipped with a high-definition computer map of his new world to show where the "hole" was located relative to Earth in relation to this new world.

5.

Inert gases and the liquid bath were pumped out and fresh liquids pumped in. Brian's cocoon was flushed out a second time, fresh oxygen was slowly pumped in along with a few microns of a gas similar to smelling salts but in a gas form introduced to revive him. No one was there to help him, no one to assure he was alive, dead, or otherwise, unless as Brian considered, a computer that did everything but serve supper in an apron and a smile.

"Hey, hone can you get the alarm? My day off…"

Maryann leaned over him to turn the alarm off. The scent of perfume and the hint of silk made him want to reach up to take her in his arms to love her.

The image faded to a glass canopy floating over him.

 _Why did everything appear as a camera lens out of focus?_ Swirls of color, a kaleidoscope of colors and shades swirled around his face.

Trying to move his arms was an effort. Trying to focus the camera didn't work. The alarm sounded a third time until the blur and mis-focused camera cleared and things came into focus. Major Brian Lee finally cleared his eyes enough to look around the crew cabin of the highly modified Space Wing riding on top of the Space Shuttle. He remembered he was riding piggy-back on the Shuttle that had all the supplies in its cargo hold he would need once he landed on Pandora. The theory was the Shuttle and Wing were to separate once in orbit and he would shepherd the two craft to the surface and a landing. Wherever that was supposed to be was anybody's guess. That would be a sight to behold.

Another few minutes the lid of the coffin like couch opened automatically so he could begin preparations for the landing in another fifteen years. Swinging his legs out to the side he felt the weightlessness as he tried to stand.

Sitting on the edge of the couch Brian cleared his mind, visions of his wife at age twenty-three when he first met her vanished like fog on a country road, the thin tendrils evaporating before the early morning sun.

" _Well my love, it now appears I'll never return to our world – I'm here – wherever that is. I always came home to you and the girls. I know they must be going nuts right now wondering if I'm alright. I did get a chance to say good-bye to them but not the way I did you. I'm about to start a brand new life – for better or worse._ "

Thinking to himself, Brian mused, "Maybe I should have gotten a copy of Douglas Adam's book, 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' that'd come in handy about now."

Struggling out of the empty bath Brian found the mirror among the several storage units set into the side of the Space Wing's compartment. Holding it up with shaking hands he looked himself over expecting to have aged – he aged, but not an advanced aging process; he appeared younger, he appeared as he did at thirty. "What did those guys give me? I've heard of miracle anti-aging stuff but thought it was a joke". Then he remembered too just before he left he was promoted to Major, US Army – Black Beret. Unless something really weird happened on this world, he'd be stuck with Major the rest of his life.

"Anyway, not a bad trade off though – Works for me."

Putting the mirror away Brian grabbed a food paste pack and a tube of orange drink made to last the journey through space, he moved to the front getting himself into the pilot's chair. Buckling himself in, he looked over the instrument cluster, and sucked down the paste.

"When was this stuff made, 1963? God I've had better MRE's in the field."

His mind still foggy from the years of sleep while in transit from Earth. Reaching over he adjusted the robot co-pilot that also acted as the navigator he checked his course. Turning on the computer and HD mapping system he was twenty light years on the other side of the hole. Basically he was there.

Sitting back Brian stared out the view screen at the multitude of strange star patterns. He was familiar with some of the patterns from Earth from field training. Special Forces and the Black Ops were trained if they didn't have a compass or map they could navigate by the stars at night, the sun during the day. If it was cloudy – oh well. Navigating by the stars wouldn't work here. Would anything work here? The CIA chiefs were confident the equipment would. Then again he lost count of the times they were wrong too.

The transit from the hole to Pandora would be another ten years. And he was halfway there. Most people would have gone slowly nuts in that time. But Black Ops and Black Berets were trained to work alone, unlike NASA's people. Maybe that is one reason he was chosen for this mission, his Black Ops training.

Using self-induced cybernetics Brian would put himself to sleep for periods of time then come out of it at selected intervals. After awakening the third time he was in the middle of his isometric exercises, trying not to talk to himself when the buzzer alerted him he was closing on the planet.

"About damned time. What took ya so long? Stop at Starbucks for coffee and crumpets?"

He pulled himself along the stanchions to the pilot's seat. Getting into the seat and buckling himself in Brian looked the instruments over. "Must be almost there."

Calculating his position on the computer Brian ran the figures two more times just to be sure. He wanted to toss the pen across the cabin but with his luck it'd sit there in mid-air and not go anywhere. He still had two more months of transit time.

"That was the warning bell. Two months and counting. Wonderful way to run an insurgency operation."

Brian moved back to the couch he converted from a bed to a recliner. He sat back in the couch staring at the myriad of stars out a port window until his eyes were too heavy with sleep to stay open any longer. Maryann floated before his mind talking softly, her voice a soothing touch to a weary soul.

" _Wake up, Brian. Wake up…_ "

Brian sat bolt upright. "Oh shit! How long was I asleep?"

Sitting up he realized he'd entered Pandora's gravity well, the magnetic field, the Van Allen Belt that surrounds a planet was drawing him in. Moving to the front, gravity began having an effect on him now. Taking the craft off the robot co-pilot but leaving the auto-pilot on he attempted to adjust for the drift and praying he did not over shoot his target land mass and land on the wrong subcontinent.

6.

"That was useless," Diaz Guz muttered, his prehensile tail waving around in frustration as the group sat around the fire staring up at the pre-dawn sky wishing someone would help them with their revolution.

"They had it all over us," the young girl, Rosa Aree added playing with the tuff of fur on her tail then using it to dry her eyes.

They spoke for their friends. They had lost six more that day. Another six they could ill afford. Their backs were to the wall and no one among the other four major regions to help take up their cause. The group sat around the fire, others looking around to assure the Loyalists, or Regime didn't try to surprise them. They knew there were other bands but they could never seem to come together. The Regime's police and army was stamping them out one group at a time.

Two of the men lifted their heads to listen.

A glowing plasma trail from the Shuttle re-entry laid a ghostly image across the pre-dawn sky traveling east to west. The kids only knew it was an aircraft but whose they did not know.

"What the hell is that?" Kyle Arm asked softly standing watching the mystery craft approach, two sets of lights pierced the early morning sky.

The others listened shaking their heads.

"Oh shit! Look…!"

The aircraft passed before they had a chance to see it passing them by in a flash of gray and white. Seconds later a loud boom sounded knocking them off their feet. A thunderous wind followed blowing the camp fire out. A second crack and boom followed flattening them to the ground.

A girl sat up looking around. "What was that?" she gasped breathing heavy seeing several trees had been up rooted by the passing of the aircraft.

Shar Ole sat up looking around in the gray light. "Everybody okay?"

"What'd the Regime do get a new bomb or something?"

"Good question."

"I've never seen anything like that before."

Azalea Bree sat up on the log again as two of the boys relight the fire. "My grandfather used to talk about aircraft that could go into space before the Great War of the States. Maybe that was one of them."

"I wonder how fast it was going?"

"Fast enough," Gale Tee replied wrapping her tail around herself. Sitting on the log resting her chin on her tan fur legs she looked around. "Fast enough to uproot trees."

The boys settled down sitting back against the log, another boy sat nesting himself between a girl's legs she caressed the comb of fur on his head to comfort him. Leaning back with a sigh he was soon asleep, the strange craft forgotten for the moment. The group one by one fell asleep trying to stay warm despite the small fire. Those on watch gave into sleep, too tired to worry about intruders or the strange craft.

The girl Azalea awoke peering skyward still thinking about that strange craft. Her mind wandered thinking about it. " _Great grandmother_ , _told me one time_ , _'If you see a shooting star in the Twilight and see it again in the pre-dawn, you will have good fortune with the one you choose as a mate.' Will that ever come true?"_

Pre-dawn was a band of silver gray light broken by the mountain ridges, the great forest that seemed to go on into eternity was black against the starkness of the hills. No one stirred at that early hour. A girl tried to get closer to her mate opening an eye to look around. She had the feeling something was happening. It was too quiet. The usual morning birds singing to each other could not be heard. It was if the birds had taken fight.

Sitting up Azalea looked around seeing the twin beams of light appear in the faint red of early dawn. In a loud voice, she said, "There it is again. I know it!"

Glancing at the altimeter Brian saw he was roughly twenty thousand feet off the ground or twenty thousand above sea level which ever was greater. He missed the LZ (Landing Zone) the drones picked out for him – and was clocking too fast he had to slow the Shuttle down some – a bit of humor – whoever the local cops were would be waiting on the next pass to give him a speeding ticket. Second problem for the shuttle, it was a one-time deal on the approach and landing, no second tries and that's what Brian was doing, two orbits. Applying the air brakes and retros he took hold of the release for the Shuttle. Something he should have done long ago. Gritting his teeth the Shuttle did not turn into a convertible he swore, "Shit!" and pulled. The Space Wing and Shuttle separated with a rapid series of bangs of the explosive caps. He wasn't worried about the retros on the Shuttle firing or not, he was worried he'd set the Wing down in one piece, not necessarily a one point landing either. The two craft flying independently of each other began slowing on the next pass until he was at MACH 1 and dropping.

Brian knew he was quickly nearing the LZ applying the air brakes one more time he dropped the landing gear. Knowing Major Lee would be landing on a grass field, the landing gear was modified with snow skies for planes landing in the Arctic and Antarctic. The two craft side by side came in for the landing. Two more loud bangs he popped the four drag-chutes slowing the two craft to half their speed. Lee grit his teeth holding on for the white knuckle ride of his life.

Azalea sat up staring at the pair of white orbs bearing down on the field. "Oh my God!" She screamed pointing at the fast approaching lights. "Oh my God! Look! Grandma, yes you were right …!"

The group sat up, staring at the white orbs racing toward the open field. They could hear the rushing and screaming of the air as the two craft touched down side by side amid a shower of rocks, dirt and grass, and smoke. The craft raced past them spraying rocks and dirt in passing.

"What is it?" Jon See said watching the craft pass in a flash of gray and white, smoke trailing in its wake.

"Don't know, let's go find out." Grabbing his weapon Diaz started running after the disappearing craft.

"What if it's a trap?" Rosa said, reluctantly following.

"Not likely. Not the way that thing came in."

In the half light of early dawn they could see the mystery craft was in trouble.

"The forest! It's heading into the forest!" Mare Ole yelled stopping breathing hard he watch the disaster.

Brian grit his teeth as the Space Wing with the Shuttle close behind set down with a lurch, rattling everything on the craft, bounced sending up a shower of rock, dirt, and grass its forward momentum barely slowing as it sped the length of the old field toward the forest at the other end the drag chutes whipping around in the shuttle and space wing's wake.

"Shit - what'd they measure this field with? Eye-ball calibration? Shit …!"

"All this for nothing!" Unbuckling the harness Brian dove to the floor bracing himself with the backs of his feet against the console. There was nothing more he could do, it was all up to the computers now; the front of the craft would bear the brunt of the punishment. The landing gear brakes on both craft burned out, the hubs on fire, the space craft free-wheeling across the fields towards the bordering forest.

Smoke and heat from the brakes and sleds set the grass on fire the space craft barely slowing as it raced toward the edge of the forest.

The group was running as fast as they could ignoring the burning grass. It seemed they ran a mile then heard a resounding crash, splintering of wood and metal continued for another minute. The two strange aircraft plowed into the forest slowing as they ran into a slight rise of ground. The nose gear on the Space Wing broke the Wing dropping to the ground digging a rut several hundred yards long before stopping.

Brian sat up breathing heavily, pulling himself up by the back of the chair to stare out the canopy at the trees and brush covering the glass. The sudden stopping of the Space Wing, he was forced forward feet first into the console stand. Another minute passed before he was certain he'd stopped, and not necessarily safely.

"I think I made it okay. I'm here – I guess. No smoke, no fire." He started laughing. He lost track of how many hundreds of years he'd been propelled through space toward this planet. How many planets had he passed by leaving the Milky Way just as worthy of his help.

But what scared him thinking about the possibilities, how many comets, planetoids and space debris did he miss on the way here? Space itself had to be the biggest free going junk yard in business.

Brian stood on shaking legs testing to make sure he had not broken anything. Walking to the back of the craft not knowing why he chose to walk to the back of the cabin, bouncing off the bulkhead and cabinets. After years in space not using his leg muscles, they were weak. Not like back home – on Earth the astronauts were only in space for a few weeks and back on Terra firma. Another, he wouldn't have the luxury of a battery of doctors pawing over him to assure he was still alive. He took a step then realized the Space Wing set at a sick angle. He considered that problem a small price to pay over just getting there in one piece.

"Well first things first, first get ready to meet whatever."

He stood shakily on wobbly legs, the soles of his feet were sore from being jammed into the console. Bouncing off cabinets and lockers, Brian made his way to the locker where his battle dress uniform hung waiting for this day.

He shed the blue one piece Air Force suit and pulled out his camouflaged uniform from the locker and heavy airborne boots. Next he pulled out his pistol belt and matched pair of Browning .45 caliber semi-automatics in shoulder holsters; a pair of Smith and Wesson .357 Magnums strapped to his waist and a pair of S&W .357 sort barrel pistols strapped to either leg. Slapping a clip in each semi-automatic he chambered a round, dropped the clip adding a round to each weapon. Now he had eight apiece. Opening another cabinet he took out a 7.62x51mm PTR 91KF Semi-Automatic Rifle with three 30 round banana clips. Tapping them in a pin-wheel fashion, over and under times three. He did four sets fixing them to his web gear. Beside it was a .30-06 Browning Safari model with 75x Black Beret sniper scope built off a Mauser action. In a second holder beside the .30-06 was a .20 gage pump shot gun, modified choke. He left them where they were for the time being.

Donning his black beret he looked at his right shoulder and the patches he was most proud of, his First Cavalry patch and the Ranger and Air Assault tabs, the left the 503rd Combat Reserve Group and airborne tab. Brian was ready to face whatever. Walking back to the front he looked down at the personnel hatch then slipped on a pair of Mylared aviator sun glasses.

7.

The group of youths finally caught up to the two wreaked aircraft. Trying to catch their breath they looked over the aircraft a minute. Flame was still burning in the thruster of one of the aircraft. The larger of the two tilted at a sick angle to the side its left rear landing gear broken, the wing dug into the ground the collapsed aircraft draped with vegetation gave it an eerie effect. The second aircraft lost its nose gear the front end dug into the ground at an angle.

The youth looked up in awe at the aircraft and strange markings.

"N – A – S – A?" Al read sounding the letters out. "And that says U-S – Air Force?"

"Wonder if there is anybody on board the aircraft?" the boy Jon See said softly as if someone would hear him.

"Wonder if they can hear us?" Shar Ole asked walking to the front, digging his way through the tangle of dug up trees and bushes.

Two boys climbed over the broken trees and around uprooted bushes to look in the window screen to the interior of the Space Wing.

"Don't see anybody … wait! Yeah there he is!" He tapped the window and waved trying to get the stranger's attention.

Out of the corner of his eye Brian saw the two humanoids peering in the windscreen at him their tails flipping around. Acting as if he didn't see them he continued his preparations. "Well can't keep them waiting. Might as well say, 'Hi" to whatever."

Kyle and Dol climbed up the trees to look in the window screen curious as to what or who was inside.

The belly access hatch swung open the youth watched fascinated as first a pair of shiny black boots appeared then legs in a strange pattern of colors then the person appeared. The man had a weapon strapped to his back and several holstered weapons.

The first thought the kids had was: _"Our worst enemy, a Medit!"_

Turning he said, "Um, hi."

Major Brian Lee stood at the foot of the ladder looking over the group of armed youth nervously waving rifles at him. Looking around lowering the sun glasses he noticed a girl at the back of the group by herself, she was watching him watching her. Brian smiled hoping if there was any communications barrier a smile would overcome it; at least that's what he leaned at the Defense Language School. First contact: Smile.

He studied the group seeing the distinctly pointed ears, the almond eyes, thin arched eye brows, the eyes a dark shade of either brown, black or dark blue; hair a light russet brown, their skin a light brown shade with four digits for their hands. He considered the fact he could get used to the people's unusual features over time, especially the prehensile tail appeared as long as they were tall with a tuff of fur on the tip.

A boy said fingering his rifle unsure how to approach this stranger, "Um, hi, um, who are you?"

Azalea felt the inner thrill of the man, tall, handsome for a Medit, dark eyes, light skin, hands that appeared to be of a warrior. Following instinct Azalea returned his smile feeling a lightness. Was this the one, a Medit contradictory to their culture who would one day not be her people's savior but her mate – her chosen one? She could only hope.

However, tails swishing in uncertainty, the kids warily watched the stranger prepared to run if necessary. Brian Lee's first priority was building trust among these strange people. But were these the people or beings he was supposed to help?

Smiling at the group, Brian said, holding hands away from the holstered weapons which they nervously eyed with caution, "Major Brian Lee, US Army, 503rd Combat Reserve Group, Black Berets." Brian was mildly surprised the youth responded, he replied. "Then I suppose my next comment should be – take me to your leader?"

Brian looked the kids over a moment. Despite the racial difference, the group were cat like in appearance, short tan or light brown fur much of the body, the eyes a dark blue or green were a distinct almond and tail with a tuff of hair on the tip, yet they held an upright stance. The ears were pointed with a tuff of hair on each, however the mouth and nose were the only part human like.

Brain felt like 'grandpa goes to war.' Although he could not guess their real age any more than they could his, he estimated they could not have been over 17 or 18 – if looks were not deceiving. Briefly looking around the forest he saw the swath of destruction the Shuttle and Space wing cut across the field the space craft caused. _'Damned, I did that?'_

He looked back at the small group. "I suppose this might be a good time to ask the popular question: Where am I?"

The kids looked at each other seeing who would answer him first, then the girl Rosa said, "You're not from Endora or Letener?"

"Endora, Letener? Is that a world?" The group nodded. "Um, no. I am afraid not. I've been sent from Earth – the United States of America to help. What we identified as a rebel faction against a totalitarian regimen. By the way what's a Letener?"

The kids looked at each other surprised.

"Our country, but we're Tonits, the Medits like you put us down," said Azalea shyly moving to the front. The others nodded their agreement. "Well you're in Letener and we're from Casewell. Our town – at least what's left of it."

"Was our home," the girl Gale Tee told Brian.

"Yeah," Mare said bitterly. "Was."

Brian crouched leaning back against a flattened landing gear tire. "Okay, tell me what happened to your town."

Despite racial difference he was slowly gaining their trust listening to them. Crouching, leaning against the tire, hands away from weapons he was less threatening to the youth. Paleontologists and physiologists told him this was the critical phase of first contact – gaining a people's trust. He remembered making contact with the **Montagnard** tribes in Vietnam.

Tails among the group swished with agitation as they recounted the atrocities against the Tonit people. The atrocities – if it wasn't for time/space and distance – in light years, what they were telling him sounded like a chapter taken from Earth and the Middle East or Africa.

Jon, their leader quickly spoke up. "The rebellion against the Meds started in Casewell four years ago. About five months ago the Regime bombed the town."

"My parents were killed," Dol See said tears showing at her eyes. A boy held her comforting her.

"And my family," Kyle Arm added bitterly. "This is my family now.

"And we've been hoping for somebody to help us, one of the other regions or lands," their leader Jon See told him a passionate plea for help was on the tip of his lips.

Brian had to be thankful on the one hand he was right on the mark. Raising a hand he said, "Well it looks like my bosses were right for once. They sent me to help you with your revolution."

"Fantastic!" Jon cheered. "We don't know how much longer we could have held out against the Medits. We're losing committees or groups every day."

The kids were cheered up there was help, any help they could get. The group introduced themselves to Brian.

Jon See and his sister Dol, Gale Tee, Al Slone, Rosa Aree, Kyle Arm, Diaz Guz, the Ole brothers, Shar and Mare, and Azalea Bree. Brian shook hands with the group but he felt himself linger with Azalea. Curiously he felt an attraction to her, an infatuation. Although to Brian she was an extra-terrestrial and he, an extra-terrestrial to her, despite the racial differences they almost seemed strangely attracted to one another. She smiled alluringly to him the invisible sparks of first love passed between them.

He looked around the group except for a couple, tails between boys and girls were intertwined and a couple formed the symbol of a heart.

"Is there anything left of the town?" Brian asked looking at Jon See crossing his arms knowing that answer already. His job was starting now.

"Some – a few homes, damaged. A couple stores still stand. The Medits are occupying a couple of our towns."

Brian was silent a moment. He had the idea now listening to the kids, all of them age wise could have been his son or daughter. This rebellion sounded like it was off to a bad start. But it could still be turned around in the favor of the rebel's cause. Most rebellions started off with a bad beginning until somebody rose to the occasion to get things organized.

Glancing over his shoulder toward the Shuttle in the cargo bay was over fifty-three thousand plus pounds of weapons, ammunition and critical supplies to kick start their revolution in the right direction. Standing he said, "Is there such a thing as a tractor and a couple stake side wagons?"

Mere said, "I don't know about a tractor, but I can get a tow-along and wagons."

"Whatever. The Shuttle craft has five large cargo containers with weapons, medical supplies and other equipment that need to be off-loaded. And hidden."

"We can help!" The Ole boys ran off into the woods to get the tractor and wagons.

Moving close to Brian, Azalea said, "Their father owns a big farm south of here."

"When I get a chance that I want to see. I was raised on a big cattle spread." Brian walked over to the Shuttle Azalea followed. Opening a panel big enough to fit a gloved hand in Brian opened the hatch. "While they're going for the tractor and wagons I'll open the cargo bay doors. And we can get things lined up for the unloading."

The access door slowly swung down with the whir of hydraulics then the ladder dropped down. The kids tried peering up the open hatch into the dark interior. He looked back, Azalea standing at the foot of the ladder the kids gathered around watching him.

"Wait here I'll turn the lights on," he told them climbing into the craft to an electrical cabinet to turn interior lighting on inside the Shuttle's mid-deck. He gestured for them to climb inside. "Be careful of your tails. There is more room here then the Space Wing which is a compact by comparison. Okay. Now, I'm not an expert on one of these flying cargo trucks. What takes the people who run these space rigs four years to learn to operate, they gave me a crash course in two weeks. Where we're standing is divided into three distinct sections. The lower deck of the crew compartment primarily contains life support systems, electrical systems, environment control, waste removal, fire protection, communication and radar systems used for docking and other systems and its crew.

"The mid-deck and the flight deck are the living and work quarters for the crew. The left-side contains an entry hatch as you see you continue along the shuttle you see the front wall that has cabinets and drawers. The cabinets have Velcro strips, which help to keep things from floating around while we're in space where there is no gravity. Drawers have a mesh covering that helps to prevent things from floating around. The mid-deck also has the galley or kitchen where the food containers are stored. The kitchen has storage compartments, food warmers, an area for preparing food with warm and cold water outlets and metal trays for the food to keep it from floating. The mid-deck also has storage lockers for the crew and exercise equipment, which the astronauts use regularly. The shuttle has laptop computers which the astronauts use for work and for communication purposes.

"Next the flight deck is the control center of the space shuttle, located above the mid-deck. Here the mission commander and the pilot control the space shuttle and the mission specialists control the shuttle's robotic arm, which I'll show you how it works once Phil gets back with the tractor. The control panel for the robotic arm is located on the wall on the left. Two windows above the control panel give the astronauts a view of the cargo bay. The front of the shuttle, or the nose, is where you will find two seats. The left one is for the mission commander, while the right one is for the pilot. Opposite what most planes set up is. Pilot on the left, co-pilot on right navigator to the rear."

The kids were awe struck by the Shuttle's complex interior. Brian opened the door to the cargo bay. Using the remote control he opened the cargo bay hatches. The hatches slowly opened with a whirring of electric motors and servo's exposing the cargo containers to the planet's sun.

Once the two bay hatches were open Brian held his breath as he began working the Canada Arm checking to assure it worked after the long trip across two galaxies of space and time, plus the crash landing. Heaving a sigh of relief he maneuvered the arm back and forth testing it. "Good everything works."

As he worked the Canada Arm testing the controls, he felt a set of eyes on him. He looked back at the group then looked down to see Azalea – in his mind, a cute girl captivated by the Stranger's words, her tail held straight showing her happiness. He couldn't help but smile.

"Now to empty the Shuttle of the small stuff, let's start emptying this stuff out, put it off to the side where it'll be out of the way when they bring the tractor back."

The kids were understandably curious as to what the items were and used for. He wondered what their society was like. It was definitely a society of the haves and have not's, he knew that. A half hour of steady work, the loose equipment was unloaded. Looking around the inside one more time he checked to assure he had everything, and the bay ready to empty the containers.

Brian led them over to the Space Wing to begin emptying it out of everything he'd brought with him. He passed equipment and supplies to the kids to put outside. He began emptying cabinets and drawers of everything he could remember NASA, the Air Force and Army sent with him. The kids helped him take things outside to lay to the side of the two craft.

8.

Everything was placed in neat rows the kids standing to the side proud of the job. Looking over the piles of equipment he found the packing case he wanted. Opening it he said, "Meet my girlfriend."

"Your who…?" several said confused as he took the rifle from the packing case.

"An M240E1 built by FN Manufacturing in Raleigh, North Carolina – Good ole US of A. Belt fed or magazine fed. The Shuttle has twenty more like it and ten of the infamous M249, and my favorite – six M79 40 mike-mike grenade launchers. I'll explain all this later. In other words I brought enough hardware with me to supply two groups of ten members each and have our own private war."

The kids were amazed at the wealth of supplies the Major brought with him.

Brian set the M240E1 outside the case opening the feed tray cover then opened a box of ammunition. Loading a belt of 100 7.62x51 millimeter ammunition he jacked the charging handle back letting go chambering the first round with a distinct _click-clack!_ Then strung the other two belts of 100 rounds over his shoulders in a cross over. Brian heard the distinct sound of rustling grass and snapping of twigs. He had to admit he wasn't exactly quiet about his entry to this place either but finesse goes a long way in success. Looking up he saw a group of red jacketed men approach from the wood line.

"Oh no," the girl Azalea said in a soft but frightened voice, "the Regime police."

Brian looked up again as the ten red and blue uniformed troops crossed the field toward them brandishing weapons. Brian could not tell what they had for weapons but he smiled, his first test in this society what appeared to be a dysfunctional revolution taking place. "Good, bad, otherwise?"

"Bad. They're the ones we've been fighting," she said her voice uncertain.

"We've been fighting a losing fight with them," Jon told him backing away.

"And they don't strike me as too friendly anyway." Striking a 'devil may care' pose Brian said, "Come ta, Papa. You kids get behind the fallen trees – and stay low. The shit is going to hit the fan real fast." Kneeling he acted as if he were doing something on the ground. Glancing up as the soldiers were getting closer he watched them stop to look at the engine pods of the two craft then look at him as if trying to put the two together in their minds. One spotted Brian kneeling over something.

The one who Brian guessed was an officer or senior NCO noticed the uniform he wore was a strange multi patterned clothes and strange hat on his head, and his ears were rounded like theirs, yet he was talking to a group of Tonits as if he were not aware of the physical and racial difference.

Looking up Brian watched their cautious approach. Stopping most of the troop continued to stare with awe at the two space craft then again at Major Lee.

The officer ordered, "Drop your weapons." Two soldiers with the officer advanced toward him. "By order of the Regime. And you others throw your weapons down – come out with your hands up."

The other soldiers looking up at the space craft were astounded by the two craft and the depth of the swath of destruction they caused, not paying attention to the Stranger.

Brian looked up at the officer as if he did not understand. Speaking in Swahili he confused the officer. Smiling, he pointed to his ears gesturing he did not understand. Azalea stood to the side watching confused by Lee's shift to a language she did not understand.

Slipping the assault sling over his shoulder Brian did not look over his shoulder he knew the girl was behind him. He softly said to Azalea, "Stay behind me."

The officer, frustrated said, "What are you doing there? Who are you, sir and where do you come from? Answer me!"

The officer approached closer, Brian was able to see the ears, the signature difference between the two races plus the lack of the prehensile tail. The eyes showed the distinct almond shape, the eye brows less arched the skin a dark shade of beige. In contrast Brian's skin was nearly white from the years on the Space Wing. He knew then he'd be in for an interesting "ride" with the two races of people. He was quickly finding himself to be the "odd" man out, despite being closer in appearance to the dominate race the Medits.

Brian stood resting his arms on the machine gun the belt of 100 rounds dangling from the feed tray. Appearing relaxed, he flipped the safety off resting a finger on the trigger he said in a sarcastic tone, "Well now that depends dude, probably about two weeks ago I coulda' been yer best buddy. But today? Well, by tonight, I may be yer worst nightmare."

The officer was scrutinizing Brian closely, especially the ears and eyes wondering what he was doing with what was obviously an inferior race.

Curious he said, "What?"

Brian clicked the selector to automatic and swung the machine gun around, pulling the trigger at the same time sweeping back and forth twice. All ten lay on the ground dead.

One by one the kids looked up as he took the machine gun off his shoulder. "Okay, let's get these guys off to the side out of the way. Grab all the weapons and ammunition. Put the weapons to the side with my other weapons. We'll need `em."

When the stranger killed the entire troop he sealed his fate with the rebels. Taking a playing card, a black Ace of Spades from a pocket he walked over placing it in the officer's mouth, ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the BLACK BERETS, Delta Detachment, 503_ _rd_ _Combat Reserve Group.'_ He got the playing cards from his former commander before departure.

A few minutes' later two tractors towing wagons appeared. The two boys on one and an older man on the other. The older man stopped as he approached the two space craft. The boys looked dumbfounded at the bodies of the soldiers laying in a neat row near the trail.

The older man, Ja Ole tore his eyes away from the two ships looking at the stranger in shock. Bringing a rifle up one of the boys yelled, "No! Don't!"

Ja looked at the boy. "Why, he's a light skin – a Medit."

"No," the boy yelled, "he's our friend."

The old man looked from Lee to the line of bodies. "Who killed the police?"

"He did – Brian did it," Azalea said standing in front of him almost possessively wrapping her tail around him.

The other looked at her puzzled. "True?"

The other kids nodded.

"He did," Diaz said looking over at the line of bodies. "With that strange weapon."

Ja Ole looked from Brian to the strange space craft. "This is a strange omen. We will be free."

"This means we'll have success now, father," one of Ja's son's said under his breath.

"Then we best get on with the unloading." Brian directed Ja to pull the tractor and wagons between the two craft.

Brian climbed back in to the Shuttle to maneuver the Arm to carefully pick up each container. He hoped the Arm would hold the heavy containers. The Arm was meant to be used in the weightlessness of space, not on the ground and pull of gravity. Placing the first one on the wagon, holding his breath the Arm didn't break and the containers would fit on the wagon. The container fit perfectly. Turning as he picked up the next one he looked back to see Azalea, as he called her name which[HED1] [HED2] was hard to pronounce. He smiled showing her the control box.

"Here, want to try it?" he asked showing her how it worked.

He let her pick up the next container swinging it out over the side to the empty wagon. Jar directed her where to place the container carefully picking up each container. Azalea looked up at Lee thrilled he was letting her work the Arm's controls. Brian smiled showing he was happy she caught on so quick.

The girl, Endnorra or he called her Azalea, was nervous as she picked up the next container lifting it past the open bay doors out to Ja and Shar who were directing the loading of the wagons.

Brian felt something for the girl as he watched her. Slight near human figure that he could not help but stare at. Azalea stood with her back to him as she manipulated the control box. He admired her waist long hair that seemed to be a trait among the Tonit girls until they were of marrying age. In Brian's mind, Azalea was all girl.

Within a short time all the containers were loaded and tied down on the wagons with load holding straps Brian pulled out of a storage locker. The extra weapons and things were loaded in the space available. The kids climbed on the loads singing glad the rebellion would go their way now.

Inside each craft two two hundred pound bombs were placed in each craft's belly. Everybody outside he opened a cover on the floor with the first key, pulled a pin arming the two, two separate cabinets at floor level he opened a set of small doors to pull the pin placing the two, two hundred pound bombs used by the Air Force on standby mode. When the bombs in both craft were armed, if the Regime attempted to move the craft, which they would the two space craft would instantly blow simultaneously.

"Set," he said to himself carefully closing the cover and locking it. "And once I leave this place I'll be stuck here for life, whether I like it or not." Looking at the pin, he mused, "Pin? Who were they kidding? This is nothing more than a hand grenade pin. Guess I'll keep it as a memento of my past."

Placing the key and pin in a pocket he climbed out of the Space Wing for the last time.

9.

The Ole farm was large by Letener standards, which to Brian meant Ja was very successful as a dairy and grain farmer.

Brian slipped off the wagon to the ground.

Ja and the youngest son pulled the tractors with the wagon loads into the barn. Brian looked around the barn. "Now until it can be distributed, where can we hide everything?"

"Under the hay?" Their leader Jon See suggested kicking at the straw and hay.

Ja and Brian looked the barn over. "That's the first place they'll look. But …"

Brian stepped into an empty pen. Kicking the soiled straw aside, he looked under the straw. "Hopefully these guys have a lousy sense of imagination."

"What do mean?" Ja said watching Brian standing in the middle of the pen.

"Jon," he pointed to Jon, "was partly correct – bury everything we don't immediately need – under the straw. And there is a lot so the holes need to be deep. We'll need five stalls. And thank god this is a dirt floor."

They pulled the soiled straw out with rakes piling it in the middle of the floor.

Ja's wife silently stood at the open door quietly watching the kids dig the holes. The stranger working alongside the kids. Yet she was leery of him, he looked too much like a Medit but the kids said he was from off world sent by his people to help them.

"He's alright, Mother," Ja assured her, patting the woman on the shoulders and kissing her neck. She smiled kissing her husband as they linked tails. "He is from off our world sent to help us with our cause."

"Jenna and I will fix supper for everyone."

"I want to help, Mother."

"Later," Ja told her with a smile for his youngest child, "You can help spell the ones working."

The girl was satisfied with the answer following her mother into the house.

Soon the supper was ready. Washing their hands the kids lined up at the kitchen door, Jenna handing each one a plate and flat ware. Brian and Ja stood back watching.

Ja said curiously, "You don't join in?"

Grinning, Brian said, "In my Army the NCO and Officer let the troops go first, then they're served last."

Inclining his head, Ja motioned he understood. Brian was worried his metabolism would reject the food until he had a chance to acclimate to the environment and sustenance. He and Ja were served. Ana assuring Brian had plenty. Brian sampled a bit, the kids watching him. Brian didn't feel any ill effects then finally finished it, hungry, the only food he had from earth was the tubes of paste and drink mixture. Ja's wife Ana served what appeared to Brian a burrito with rice and black beans mixed together topped by a salsa.

Brian's eyes light up. "Hey. This good. You know what this is like?" Everyone shook their heads. "A Burrito, a Mexican food from my world."

"So you like this, Major?" Ana said, smiling, the Stranger liked her cooking.

"Yes. I'm originally from an area called New Mexico, Mexican cooking is a specialty there."

Finishing supper they returned to work, refreshed and ready to keep working.

Digging down deep under the pens Brian with the kids buried the supplies they did not immediately need. What they needed they buried out in the paddock in the back they could easily dig up on a moment's notice.

Late evening under lamp light they buried the last of the supplies. They rested for awhile then crawled up to the hay loft to sleep. Ana gave them extra blankets against the chill of the night. Brian settled down in his sleeping bag burrowing deep in to the loose hay.

This reminded him of the many times he slept in German dairy barns when on field problems. A short time later he felt the hay shift and someone laying down beside him.

"I want to sleep with you, Major." Azalea pressed her slight body next to him, her tail wrapping around Brian, she burrowed down in the hay with her thin blanket.

Taking his extra blanket he laid it over her. Turning, on his side facing her, Brian put an arm about the girl comforting her. That night the girl's dreams were of the Stranger.

10.

The next morning they worked on disposing of the containers. They were returning from the forest close to the farm.

"Regime!" Al Sloane hissed. "Hide."

Major Lee had Shar and Marne continue to the barn as the others ran back to a fence line and wind break. Azalea hugged up to Brian as they lay low in the weeds.

Taking out the binoculars, Brian watched the Regime police.

Jon See moved closer to Brian. "What should we do, Major?"

"Nothing right now," he said watching the police. Looking again Brian asked, "If I couldn't already guess, Jon, the guy's in the brown uniforms are military, the ones in red are the police."

"Yes."

"Okay. I'm pretty sure I know what these guys are or who they're looking for."

"The ones you killed," said Azalea a nervous tone in her young voice.

Brian reached over touching her hand. Despite what it appeared, her skin was soft and smooth, her hand was delicate as he held her. The girl moved closer, the weeds barely rustling with her movement.

"By next week they'll know they've been in a fight."

They lay along the fence watching the police and soldiers until they left. A couple started to stand up but Brian said, "Lay down. Give them a few minutes to get down the road. They're liable to turn around and come back to see if that is exactly what we will or somebody will do."

Laying down Brian watched the road. Several police and military vehicles passed but did not turn into the farm again. Living here would be an adventure all its own. He wondered what he'd become involved in. On the one hand he had no choice in the matter, on the other there was no such thing as, ' _Here's my cell number and e-mail address… call me when ya get a chance_.' But he had to admit what would make the job easier the kids were eager to learn.

"Uh, huh they're checking again. Wonderful. Nice of you guys to be so concerned."

"Think it's safe, Major?"

"Patience goes a long way in this job. You gotta judge when the best time is to move and not move. Just to sit and watch them run in circles waste their time. And you to just sit and enjoy the free show." He checked the area again. "Okay…"

For the next two days he gave classes on everything from weapons to booby-traps. Within the few days he taught them to be terrorists and guerilla fighters. Jon's group became the most industrious and deadliest cell among the rebels.

The best teacher was experience. To get the experience they needed, Brian took the kids on their first patrol. They dressed in the black one piece suits he brought with him. To help them Ana cut holes for their tails. He assured they knew what to do and how to do it. They practiced on the farm, patrolling, ambush, reacting to ambush, especially first aid.

Azalea would watch him as he worked with them. She made up her mind to be as good as him. The ancient emotion stirred within her again; she felt the physical need for a male. Attired in his BDU uniform, sans the shirt his muscles rippled as he took the group through its paces. He handled his weapon with a familiarity that brought a smile to her. She could imagine his hands on her body the way he held a rifle.

Sitting beside him she hung onto his every word, especially at night one of the kids would ask him about his homeland, his stories of his years in the Army on Earth would keep them captivated for hours. Al asked him about how he came to be on their world of Endora.

"You know what drafted means?" Brian asked with a smile around a stalk of straw.

"Yes."

"Basically, I got drafted back into the Army, and didn't even have to raise my right hand either."

Kyle said with seriousness, "In other words you were black flied."

Lee had to think about the phrase. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it I suppose."

They were on their first patrol under his guidance. His brown T-shirt, web gear, camouflage pants, black boots and black beret became his signature uniform with the rifle and brace of weapons. The object was to teach them reconnaissance in the field, patrol and selecting ambush sites or for later use.

Brian led them through a forest near a road Jon told him was a major highway. Brian wanted to say, ' _It is?'_ but refrained from the comment. The road was little better than a two lane tar packed road. The group froze at the sound of motor vehicles then quickly dove for cover spreading leaves and junk over themselves. Brian watched the road as four troop transports passed with a staff car in the lead. Brian smiled.

"After today, we'll be their worst nightmare."

Looking over a map of the region Al and Kyle obtained for him he taught them how to read the map.

Standing in the middle of the barn, he held out the map "Now I should be able to take this map, next time we go out, toss it to any one of you and have you get out in front and lead."

The concept was new to them. They were used to a subservient role in life. Now this stranger, this human in less than four days was teaching them a whole new way to fight the Medits. He took them out on patrol two more times, the third time was in the early evening getting them oriented to night patrol. He found out night patrolling was their weak point and the reason for their lack of success.

They left out from the farm just before dusk. Each person not only had the basic load Brian assigned them and each carried a claymore with blasting caps. The group reached the highway and quickly setup running the firing cord back into the underbrush. Brian checked their work then drove a marker stake in the road. When the lead vehicle reached the stake, they would blow the claymores.

"Now all we can do is wait," he said laying down getting ready. Azalea moved herself closer to him.

They only had a few minutes to settle in when a convoy heading out from a Tonit town not far away was cruising along the road, four transports and a command car the head lights on, convoy commander's flag waving from the antenna.

"That's a real give away," he muttered then squeezed the static clacker, twenty claymores blew as one.

The kids grabbed up their rifles and unloaded fifteen rounds into the burning wreckage.

Brian stood up. "Let's get outta here!"

Running past the last truck Brian stuck an Ace of Spades playing card under a wind shield wiper. ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the Black Berets…"_

Within a short time this became the monogram for the rebellion.

The group reorganized in the woods, Brian had them do a quick head count then moved back to the farm. They returned to the farm jubilant with their first success. Brian let them talk it out of their systems – good for them. They were on an adrenalin high from their first success. Later he cautioned them to accept failure and success together, not every mission was going to go according to plan – the enemy – in this case the Regime didn't always have a chance to read their plans.

It was late when they finally settled down. Brian felt the now familiar form of Azalea settle down in the hay beside him her tail wrapping around his waist. She leaned over to kiss him. "Goodnight, sweet heart." The girl was attaching herself to him.

Brian felt the need of the girl beside him. Reaching over he gave her a deep passionate kiss. "Night – babe."

Within a short time Brian shifted from advisor to leader. The subservient role of the Tonites made it easy for the kids to surrender leadership to Brian. He questioned the kids on every aspect of the Medites, their likes and dislikes. Habits, their social life. The military, their training how they fought, tactics, every detail he needed to know to fight them. Above all else, teach the kids how to be effective fighters.

The next afternoon Brian discussed the plan to strike another convoy. "Keep them off balance. Except this time we set up differently. Box them in catching them in the familiar L ambush. They took up position along the edge of a heavily wooded area, the road leading through a natural tunnel of trees and bushes that lined the road was perfect for Brian's plan.

They did not have too long to wait, an evening patrol was moving along the road as expected the soldiers appeared bored with the job not paying attention to their duties. Brian smiled, it was too familiar a scene. They'll soon learn.

The patrol entered the killing zone. Brian blew on a homemade whistle. The soldiers looked around for the source of the noise. Kyle pressed the clacker the center of the convoy erupted in a fireball, the kids on front and rear ambush closed in opening fire at the same time. Within two minutes it was over the kids melting back in the wood line – unseen.

After laying low for two days four cars were acquired – to Brian they were cars and operated like cars on Earth. Brian found himself immersed in the revolution leading his third raid on the Regime. They sped down the road late at night. Jon was driving the lead car when they came upon a checkpoint not far from the town.

Shar in the second car panicked. "What … hope the Major knows what to do."

Al Slone said quietly as they stopped behind Jon and Brian, "Chill. See what they're going to do first."

Jon was suddenly nervous this had not happened to them yet.

"Be cool," Brian said, "Just drive up to the check point and be cool. And I hope the others are the same way – cool. Let me handle this."

Jon drove up to the check point. The guards stood close by brandishing their weapons. Jon acted appropriately nervous. The guard stopped them.

"You're out after curfew. State your name and business." He shoved a recorder in Jon's face. "And why you are out this late – Stay in the car. This is a violation of the curfew."

Jon faltered, looking to Brian for an answer.

Brian said, acting uncomfortable and holding his groin opened the door to get out.

The police officer barked, "I said stay in the car!"

"Hey, if ya don't mind I gotta take a piss – bad!"

"Stay in the car!"

"Well bring yer back pocket over here and I'll piss in it instead. Ya want me ta do dat?"

A guard walked around the car brandishing a sub-machine gun. "In!"

The guard's mistake. He stopped to stare at the strange uniform. Brian's camouflage uniform and brace of weapons became his trademark among the Tonit revolutionary groups.

Brian quickly drew both his .45 semi-automatic pistols, shot the guard closest to him then the shot the one closest to Jon; systematically taking out the other five before they had a chance to react. Kyle Arm driving the last car raised the pistol just above the window frame. The guard did not see the pistol until it was too late. Kyle shot the guard. Within a few seconds all six guards were dead. Brian tossed a hand grenade into the guard shack blowing it apart. Dropping a card on the first guard he shot he dove back in to the car. The drivers pressed the accelerators to the floor the cars surged ahead slinging gravel and a cloud of dust and smoke.

"Twenty-seconds. In situations like that, speed, quick thinking, and efficiency are important."

"How did we do, Major?" Diaz Guz asked looking out the rear window feeling the giddiness of the moment.

"Good, especially considering we had to wing that one – and you didn't even practice for this one either. Now you know."

Azalea's ears were still stinging from what Brian said. Brian met the girl's shy look. She smiled at him.

The group paused outside of the town long enough to pull black hoods on then slowly continue in to the town. It was late night when Jon slowed driving along the deserted main street of Casewell toward the distant police station. Two trailers hooked together in a double wide replaced the building that was destroyed. Brian got a good idea of the destruction to the town. Debris, five months later still clogged the streets.

Jon pointed out the police station to Brian. "There and it looks like there are three cars in front."

Turning the lights off Jon pulled to the curb leaving the engine running. Brian sized up the situation. "Jon, you and I take the second two cars, let Al take the first. Azalea move into the driver's seat – Diaz guard. Azalea lead the others in a U-turn stopping beside the police cars to pick us up. I'll go after the cops inside – stir things up a bit. Let's go."

Brian and Jon slipped out of the car, Al Sloane followed. Azalea took the driver's seat, Rosa took Al's place. They darted across the street sliding under the police vans. The grenades were taped to the leaf springs, the lacing wire tied on the pin then the drive shaft. Al and Diaz ran back to the cars, Brian ran up to the door kicking the door in crashing back against the wall. The four police men were shocked looking up to see the green and black figure with black hood standing in front of them leveling the sub-machine gun at them. He fired emptying half the magazine in to the station then tossed his last grenade into the middle of the room and took off.

An explosion followed as Brian cleared the front steps. Stopping long enough to place a playing card under a windshield wiper he ran to the car.

"Let's get the hell outta here!" Brian said jumping into the car.

Flooring the accelerator Azalea burned rubber leaving a stretch of black patches behind.

Brian stood out front of the cave they now called their command and operations post. After blowing up the police station and two convoys four nights in a row was too much for the police and army to handle. Brian had them abandon the farm. One of the boys remembered the cave which proved spacious with plenty of room for everyone. The four cars they'd stolen were parked inside.

Early morning Brian could not sleep. Slipping out of the sleeping bag, letting Azalea sleep he sat at the front entrance staring into the thick underbrush. A soft hand caressed his shoulder, soft warm lips touched his haggard face, brushing his beard.

"Morning, lover."

Brian glanced up into the soulful brown eyes of the girl expressing her deep feeling for him; a profoundly emotional touch. Turning he put his arms about the girl drawing her down on to his lap. Strangely Brian was not repulsed by the differences in the two, rather he was fascinated by their differences. He was immediately taken by the girl. Brushing her hair out of her face he kissed her again feeling the stirring in himself.

"Now that's the kind of good morning I like."

Their lips met again in a long lingering kiss. Brian was mildly surprised there were many similarities between Earth and of Endora.

Azalea slipped her hand inside Brian's shirt feeling his hard chest. The girl's hand was smooth and warm caressing his chest. The problem was, the gesture reminded him of what Maryann used to do to get his attention. The girl's tail swishing back and forth with her pleasure. The girl was insistent kissing his face until Brian whispered in her ear:

"Later little one when we can be by ourselves – more private."

She whispered in his ear, "Yes, my lover. Always. You're my man now." Then gave his lower lip a soft nip. Brian was surprised by how forward the girl was for her possible age, but he had to remind himself, customs and social mores were almost the same but different.

"No argument there. Just we will have to take this slow to understand each other's culture and norms."

Azalea kissed him again snaking her tongue into his mouth. "Yes my love ..."

Suddenly it felt as if the world had come to an end. Two explosions rocked the ground and air, Azalea clung to Brian. The native birds took to the air in flocks darkening the morning light. They looked in the direction of the explosions as two large plumes of smoke and fire rose up in the still morning air.

The cave was emptying out of the others, weapons slung over shoulders trying to pull themselves together.

"What was that?" Al demanded looking around. "The Regime find us?"

They were puzzled by Brian's calm demeanor.

Calmly Brian said, "They found the Shuttles – and four two hundred pound bombs in the two Shuttles just went off."

Kyle said with dead pan humor, "Yeah and blew themselves up in the process. Hey what a deal …"

They watched the twin plumes of smoke, debris, and fire rise skyward for a few minutes.

Brian set Azalea on her feet. "The die has been cast. There is no going back."

11.

Shar and Mare returned later in the day with another map of the region.

The town of Casewell was marked, the place where the space craft crashed and the ambushed convoys. They studied the map and places marked on it showing towns Brian identified as likely targets.

"One thing we cannot do is establish a pattern. We need to show a degree of inconsistency and take the battle if you will to them. Another, we can effectively isolate an area too. But that's later."

The group and Brian stayed close to the cave for the rest of the day and resting. Twilight set in over the land in pinks and dark blue fading to darkness, the stars began to show, the moons rose late shedding their silver blue light over the country.

Night Brian taught them would become an ally in their cause. He took Al and Kyle out on their next mission. Rigged in black suits that were among the supplies, on the first night reconnaissance of the area. Azalea wanted to go with him, the girl wanted to be with her new lover.

"No, hone," he said softly into her ear. "It doesn't take an army to learn what the opposition is and isn't doing. Your turn to go out will be soon enough. You stay safe."

"I'll miss you," she said putting her arms around his neck letting the others plainly see the Major was hers and she was his. She joined the movement but did not take a lover until that time as the others did. Brian was the lover she wanted and would freely give herself to him when the time was right. She watched her man leave that night on the group's mission as he called it.

The three slipped out of the cave while there was a trace of light moving to the side to get their night vision. Using simple hand and arm signals Brian taught them they moved out to their first objective.

They moved through the forest until they came to the road a half hour later leading to another farming town. Brian studied the road block and check point the police had established. The check point to the Regime's way of thinking was effective, located between two hills several hundred yards apart and light up like a circus. Studying the layout through the binoculars told Brian the police and army were getting serious.

Signaling them to move on they found the police and army motor pool. He found everything within a short time. The three moved onto the town using back streets and alleys working their way toward the center of the town.

Fading back through the dark ally, Brian watched the front of the police station for a moment. Police men on patrol in the town, one small group returned from road patrol, nothing he hadn't seen before. Looking up at the moons he figured it was after mid-night. His favorite time would be two-thirty in the morning, plenty of time for the group to get on "station". Watching the front of the police station he noticed activity slowed after mid-night. Motioning to the two boys they faded back into the shadows and night. It was two-thirty when they passed their guards waiting for them.

"How did it go, sir?" Jon asked as they entered the cave past the blackout curtain.

"Good." Brian suddenly had all girl in his arms kissing him.

The other's looked amused at the girl's show of enthusiasm for her new lover.

"You're back," Azalea said between kisses, her tail whipping back and forth expressing her delight her lover was back. "I love you!"

He knew he had to give her a kiss and a passionate one later in their sleeping rolls.

Wrapping his arm about the girl he said, "Okay quick debriefing on the situation as it's called then we'll get some rest until tonight.

Brian had long ago set his watch to local time. Azalea slept soundly next to him, her breathing a soft murmur as she pressed her slight body into his strong one, her hands and tail grasping his. He wanted to sit up but couldn't, Azalea had him possessively in her grasp. He lay back for another hour then sat up gently waking her.

He said gently in to her ear, "Come on, little lover."

Azalea looked up at him with a smile. "I like waking up next to you."

Kissing her, Brian whispered, "Remember I promised you time alone."

She nodded with a broad smile her tail waving back and forth in anticipation of their time alone.

"I got a plan but we all need to discuss it first."

She nodded again then sat up.

The group light lanterns and small fires to put additional light in the cave. Within an hour the group was briefed and began arming themselves with the American made rifles the CIA sent with Brian. Everyone was outfitted in black, except Brian. Brian showed them how to apply with effect the black and green theatrical grease paint with black hoods. Then he issued each one an M4A1 carbine with scope, eight magazines taped three in a pin wheel for fast reloading then four M79 grenade launchers to use on the motor pool.

"And don't waste the ammunition. Let them – the Regime waste their ammunition – short bursts of five rounds at a time."

They were ready. Lamps and fires extinguished he walked them to the opening, the group moving through the brush and camouflage net. Brian held them by the cave entrance for a minute than nodded. From then until they returned, it would be hand and arm signals.

They trudged through the forest turning north paralleling the main road taking them past the road block and check point. On the edge of the town Brian led the group through back yards, down alleys and past stores until they entered an ally that put them opposite the police station.

Brian and Jon watched the police station for a minute then signaled Al and Kyle to move out. Jon moved up on over watch. Azalea and Jon watched the alley, the others watched the opposite end for anyone who might be out despite the curfew.

The three rushed across the street sliding under the vans, tying grenades on, wiring the vans to explode when they were moved. Brian ran up to the front door attaching a satchel charge then ran back, Al and Kyle joining him as Jon and Azalea peppered the front of the station with the rifle fire drawing the police and soldiers outside.

Taking a playing card, a black Ace of Spades from a pocket Brian stopped to place it under the wind shield wiper. ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the BLACK BERETS, Delta Detachment, 503_ _rd_ _Combat Reserve Group.'_

The group melted back up the alley merging with the shadows. Behind them was a roaring secondary explosion ripping the front of the station. They scrambled through the back yards back toward the motor pool. They merged with the shadows using stores and shops close to the motor pool for concealment. They stopped opposite the motor pool Brian took the launcher he carried, Azalea, and Shar, Mare, and Diaz nodded, the others took aim and fired, a fusillade of weapons fire was unleased on the Regime police and soldiers destroying several vehicles rendering several others inoperable.

Snapping his fingers he got their attention they moved up to the check point, the police and soldiers could not help but hear the explosions and rifle fire. They looked around knowing the station had just been hit by the rebels. The police watched around them but the bright flood lights making their night vision useless. Staying in the forest and brush, the group, as quietly as they could, moved up to within striking distance. The radio operator tried calling the station but was unable to get a response.

Several police and soldiers walked along the road looking for rebels in the weeds. Unable to see anything, the bright lights casting shadows over shadows.

Raising his hand, Brian dropped it. A soldier venturing along the road peering into the dark forest stopped at hearing a noise. A black figure stood up in front of him to open fire with the M4 rifle. Eleven rifles opened up then four M79's fired grenade launchers, two landing in the open door of the guard shack blowing the building apart. Another salvo of grenades landed among the police and soldiers. The explosions sent echoes through the hills.

The rebels melted back into the forest leaving the soldiers and police dead and dying and confused. Taking another playing card, a black Ace of Spades from a pocket Brian walked over placing the card in the officer's mouth, ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the BLACK BERETS, Delta Detachment, 503_ _rd_ _Combat Reserve Group.'_

12.

The district Army Commander and Police Commissioner stared at each other across the table. Commanders from both police and army waited until one of the two spoke. The Army Chief of Staff, Jol Con looked at the map again.

The Police Commissioner, Erl Don held his hands over his mouth until speaking, he dropped them to the table. "The activity has been north of the district. And that is where the strange craft was found until the recovery crew attempted to move it and it blew up."

"Whoever landed here in those craft knows what they're doing," Army Chief of Staff Jol Con summed up the situation. He laid five cards on the table. ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the BLACK BERETS, Delta Detachment, 503_ _rd_ _Combat Reserve Group.'_ "That should say it all."

"There was a piece of paper somebody recovered that said, 'N-A-S-A and US Air Force," one of the Army commanders said.

"We've been invaded," Jol Con said in a near whisper. "Somebody is helping the rebels. And this series of strikes has emboldened at least two other Tonit districts."

"If we can't stop this rebellion among the Tonits, it'll take the entire Regime with it inside of a year - at least."

The two senior officers turned to the other then looked at each other as if they'd had a thought. "My … is it true then? Did it really happen?"

"And they're providing aid to the Tonits?"

Police Commissioner Erl Don said sitting back biting his lower lip. "We've always been afraid of that."

Jol Con said after a moment of thought, "We've been invaded and they are helping the rebels. I'll have to let Headquarters know immediately."

Brian was able to observe Azalea under fire, she was a real trooper, a helluva shot, borne with the semi-automatic in her hand instead of a rattle. During the fire fights she stood beside her man.

Eleven expectant faces watched Brian as he leaned over the map marking it with small red pen dots the locations of the places they hit. They had with two weeks hit the Medits in ten separate raids, Police and army were attempting to raid the Tonit's but running in to heated resistance. The Medit Regimen was faced with an all-out revolution on their hands.

Looking up he said tapping the map, "Notice the pattern we've started? We have to move. The Regime is going to catch on to us if they haven't already."

"Then we need to move," said Jon meeting Brian's hard gaze. "Immediately."

Brian nodded. "And within the next couple days before they get wise – if they haven't already. A good safe place and one with three-hundred and sixty five degree visibility. This place has served well but it's time we move."

The next day the kids fanned out over the country side looking for something that fit Brian's criteria.

They met back at the cave that evening. Everybody but Al and Rosa came up empty handed.

"We found a place, Major!" said Rosa swishing her tail anxious to be the first to give him the good news.

"An abandoned farm," said Al pointing to the approximate place on the map.

Brian studied the map saying, "And barn?"

"Everything – cellars, outbuildings."

Early the next morning, Brian and Al went back to the farm. Brian looked the spread over to give it his approval.

Standing at the front door of the house gazing over the valley, he nodded. "I like that root cellar. Lots of room for storage and a place to hide if needed. We'll put the supplies in there."

Two days later within three trips to the farm with a tractor and wagons and the cars they moved themselves and the supplies. Brian and three of the boys assured all traces of their being in the area were erased. They kept the tractor and wagon off the grass areas so any Regime aerial observers did not see the marks.

Dawn the following morning the group established watches to assure the Regime police or army did not stumble on them.

Everyone rested and ready move on to the next stage of their operations. A sound attracted their attention.

"I wonder …?" Brian said looking out a window. He looked at the map again. "What's that line mean?"

"Oh that?" said Shar surprised the Major didn't recognize it. "That's the railroad line down there."

Thinking about the railroad and its access to other areas of the country, he said, "We can export our cause to other places."

The kids brightened up.

"How are we going to that, Major?" Diaz asked his tail whipping around brimming with ideas.

"Well first find the nearest town of size the train stops at and take it to the Capital. However, we'll have to set up the place for security. I'll show you how to do that. It'll take some work but we can be rest assured, the Regime will pay dearly trying to take the farm."

Early the next morning Brian showed the kids how to make booby-traps and rig the farm for rapid destruction if necessary. Starting with the simple idea of punji stacks sticking up a couple inches above the weeds, foot traps using punji stakes, barbed wire entanglements setting less than an inch off the ground. In the heavily wooded area along paths they slung heavy logs from the trees loaded with foot long spikes. Last he strung claymore mines setting them up with automatic and command controlled triggers. By evening of the second day the farm was declared secured. As the booby-traps were installed, Brian had pairs of boys rove around the farm assuring no one had taken an interest in the sudden activity.

He and Jon watched from the crest of a hill as a train sped past.

Jon looked up at Brian his tail gently waving back and forth. "You have an idea, sir?"

"Yeah, a ticket to the big city."

Moon light filtered past torn and tattered curtains hanging at dirt encrusted windows. The fire on the heath was doused at sundown and cleared to prevent sparks from being seen by a chance passerby. The group sat around the living room on dirty and dusty old furniture, or the guys sat on the floor at their girl's feet, tails laced together. Brian was quickly adopting Letener and Tonit manners. The group accepted Azalea taking Brian as her mate. Ever since joining the group and the Cause, she'd been the odd one out, not having a man at her feet. Brian looked around the room, nearly all the guys were seated at a woman's feet their attention riveted on him. The map spread out in the middle of the floor using the mini-Mag flashlight, the pen pointed to the cluster of black marks symbolizing a sizable town.

"Okay so what you're saying, Gale is, in Medit society it's accepted that a well to do or rich man have a Tonit woman, or girl as a mate?"

"Not only is she his mate and plaything but his escort wherever he goes."

He looked back at Azalea for her input. She said in a matter of fact manner, "We can do it. I'll need to get certain things for the role though."

"Okay gives us a bit of time to pull this off."

"You girls go ahead and fix Azalea up as if she were my mistress."

Dol said with a smirk her tail waving around, "Ooh, he's in for a treat."

Azalea patted Brian on the head her tail casually swaying with happiness. "He'll be the best."

He was suddenly wondering what she meant.

After a week, the Regime must have figured they gave up, the other groups, what Jon and Al learned became inactive and falling apart. An occasional Regime aircraft flew overhead but nothing to raise their suspicions. The kids were cautious during the day staying in the house.

"They don't have night or all-weather reconnaissance craft?" Brian asked Jon.

He shrugged "I guess not."

"Boy, I'd like to see what they have for an inventory. Man, between us and the Russians, we have so much stuff – aircraft that is, there's not enough pilots to use it all."

Jon wondered what kind of society Brian came from. He found it hard to imagine more equipment than the Regime could use.

The days passed quickly as everything was gathered for the trip. Two trips in the city, Azalea acting as Brian's Mistress, a traditional veil over her head covered her features, but people still knew she was a rich man's woman. No one bothered them, after a month and half on Endora Brian was able assimilate with the public.

Azalea and Brian slipped into the town, Brian dressed in a black three piece broadcloth suit, she was in a dark blue linen dress with heels and the one piece black headpiece covering her hair and features. Brian was always amazed no one, even among the Tonits picked her up as a mate. Playing the part, she dutifully followed Brian wherever he went, carefully giving him directions. Standing across from the station he noted the trains passing through stopping to let people on and off. Six trains in all.

Brian turning to look in a store window said in a cautious voice, "Hey, hone what color are the taxis here?"

Turning to face the window, she said quietly with a curious tone, "Pink."

"Why not? In a situation like this, which of us hails the cab?"

"I do." Azalea turned stepping to the curb putting her hand up. "I am your mistress. The hotel, my love?"

"Yes. She has to remind me?"

A short time later sequestered in their suite they lay across the bed Brian making notes of their observations. "Tomorrow we'll leave out at mid-morning to pick up Shar and Mare and return to the farm. What I got planned for our fuzzy buddies they'll wish I stayed in space."

Azalea lay with her chin on Brian's chest her tail casually waving back and forth. She drew tiny circles on his chest humming a tune, glancing sideward at him. A mischievous grin crossed her lips. "I don't wish you to have stayed in space." The paper disappeared out of Brian's hands. "Later – my lover. You promised."

"I did, didn't I?"

Azalea crawled on top of him. "Yes." She pressed her lips against his. "Patience my lover. You don't have to worry about us. I've willed myself not to get pregnant."

Brian was stunned by the girl's remark. "You don't have anything like birth control or – whatever?"

Thinking about Brian's question, Azalea said, "That is – I think I understand your meaning that is the Tonit method. Tonit girl's their first ten years following puberty after becoming a woman-child can will themselves not to become pregnant with a man's child – unless both agree. And we will wait until the revolution is done."

"And you?"

"I still have four years before I can no longer will myself."

"Then…?" Brian knew it was a foolish question the second he asked it.

"Then I shall become pregnant with your child."

"That's what you want?"

"Yes." Azalea was firm in her answer. She stared into Brian's eyes seeking his inner soul and thoughts. She said with feeling, "I desire that. I come to you pure and unused by other men. I am yours forever."

Brian knew he was stuck on Endora for the rest of his life. A lost soul on a desert island. He knew sooner or later he would have to go 'native' in order to survive. "As we say back home – so be it – my little lover."

Leaning down she pressed her lips against his, Brian tasting the sweetness of the girl's lips against his, her tongue sliding in out of his mouth sent shock waves through him; their lips melding in an everlasting kiss of passion. He knew then he would always be Azalea's man and she, his woman.

In a sudden burst passion and desire they tumbled about in each other's arms their hands feeling each other's body, exploring becoming familiar with each other, making love that night the girl's tail rigid with her unbridled pleasure. Azalea willingly giving herself to this Stranger from the stars who was now her lover. She was now his, and he was hers.

Pre-dawn light filtered through the rooms drapes. Brian slid his hand along the girl's back. Last night was the first time in a month that he'd seen the girl without cloths in all the time she had slept with him. Sliding his hand along her back, over the light ridge of hair from her neck line to the small of her back.

Opening an eye she smiled as Brian slide his hand along her back again, the silken smooth hair gliding through his fingers like he was petting a cat. Stretching moving herself back and forth she reveled in the new feeling Brian was teaching her. He taught her things last night her mother never got around to telling her about. Her mother was grooming her to be a rich Medit's mistress. But she would have this no other way, she was too much in love with the Earthman. And everyone knew saw in her the unabashed love for the Earthman and let it be so.

"Come on, little one we need to get going before the guys come looking for us."

They left the hotel by taxi to an address close to the alley. They looked around to see if anyone were watching. They darted up the alley Brian shedding the suit, Azalea shedding the dress to a black form fitting one-piece suit. Shar and Mare grabbing up things stuffing them into suit cases they plunged into the wood line leaving the city behind.

End Party One - The Fourth Universe


	2. Chapter 1

You wouldn't think the clocks and calendars around the world just kicked over to the 21st Century as Master Sgt. Brain Lee, a retired US Army, Black Beret chaperons a NASA Space Wing ridding piggy-back on an obsolete Shuttle craft across eons of space and time toward a hole in the universe and a time continuum realm. The powers to be have a mission for him: help a politically suppressed race of extra-terrestrial beings NASA discovered through a hole in the galaxy on a planet several hundred light years away. Mission impossible? Maybe.

1.

"Master Sergeant Brian Lee, please," the Army officer said without a smile or 'Hello how are you' to the receptionist as he and the others crowded into the foyer.

Barbara Mahoney was briefly stunned as seven people led by Army and Air Force officers stepped in through the open front door of Green Meadows retirement home. They stopped at the reception counter nodding to Barbara.

Barbara looked at two FBI agents, two Secret Service Agents, and a CIA officer and two scientists from NASA, the federal agents seemed to look though her as she tried to get her thoughts together.

"Of – of course. Um, please sign the book if you will, gentlemen - and lady."

The other two ladies behind the counter stared after the group as Barbara stepped out of the reception area, the eight ignored the sign in book. Barbara stepped out from behind the counter leading them along a maze of corridors to the second floor and Room 220.

"Um, this is his room. Anything else?" she asked nervously glancing at the agents who were watching the passing nurses warily.

A passing nurse stopped to look from the agents to Barbara Mahoney with concern averting her eyes she hurried along the hall to the stairs.

The CIA officer said, "We cannot be disturbed."

"Certainly. I shall let the staff know immediately."

They waited until she was turning to the stairwell the Army officer knocked vigorously on the door.

"Enter. Door's open," a rough sounding voice called. "We don't stand on ceremony around here."

Brian Lee turned from the window in the wheel chair as the group entered.

"Master Sergeant Lee," the Colonel said as Lee tried standing to salute the Army officer out of habit. "Please, that's okay, Sergeant."

"Colonel? Colonel Grey? Damn look who they finally promoted." The two old friends from the 503rd greeted each other and shook hands. To the CIA agent lifting a hand to wave, "Hi Bob."

The other barely acknowledge him.

The agent's flashed badges in front of Brian, he noted their departments. He'd forget their names five minutes after they walked out the door. He watched as the CIA officer opened the door to check the hall. Closing the door he nodded.

Brian watched the CIA officer nodding to the others. "Well first I should ask, who's helping who here?"

"This is a mutual situation Sergeant." The CIA officer said walking to the bed with no smile. "You've been selected for a highly secret mission and only a selected number of people are in the know. And nothing will be leaked to the media. They're the last who will know."

Brian Lee held up a hand stopping them. Glancing around the room at the assembled agents, he said, "Okay, gentlemen now obviously there is a short fall here. How am I supposed to lead a mission which I shall say I was selected with a bum back and bad legs? Anybody think that far?"

The CIA agent replied in a droll tone, "The CIA doctors can cure your legs and back with a non-evasive operations."

"You'll be laid up for a while," the Air Force officer said laying a short agenda out for Brian, "but it won't be non-productive time. People will work with you preparing you for the mission. And there will be briefings from experts and if necessary they'll come to your room."

"Excuse me, Colonel but do you know the definition of expert?" Brian grinned at the joke. Everyone looked at each other for the answer.

"Well, Ted you just walked into that one with your eyes wide open," said Colonel Grey with a knowing smile. He'd heard it before from Master Sergeant Lee.

Brian said with a laugh, "X is the mathematical symbol for the unknown. Spurt is a large drip of water; therefore, an expert is a large unknown drip. Okay, what's the mathematical chances of a success on this mission?"

The CIA officer ignored the obvious joke.

The two NASA scientists suddenly felt uncomfortable. The Air Force officer didn't know whether to say anything else or not. The CIA officer nodded. The Air Force officer said, "We don't know. It's up to you to make it – or break it."

"Wonderful. Any idea who these people are I have to deal with?"

"That is all classified. You will learn all that later." He said in a flat tone picking up the thread of the briefing. "You'll be given a separate suite that will be secure. The mission will be titled Code Name: Lafayette."

Lee was unimpressed. "Lovely name. Okay so this is a scratch my back, I scratch yours where it itches most. Obviously I've just been drafted. What do you want me to do?"

The two officers looked at each other for a minute unsure how to answer. Brian had a feeling just by the code name this was an insurgency job. He was to train somebody in what they should have known already. 'Maybe the Syrian rebels? Kind of what the Marquis Gilbert de Lafayette of France did for the American struggle for freedom. However, the Marquis had a hidden agenda few were aware of at the time – get back at Britain for the French losing their Quebec Territory in Canada.

"I suppose you're going to have a lot of questions, Sergeant Lee," Colonel Grey said looking down at him.

"To say the least, yes sir. So, I also take it you guys are here to spring me from this gulag, my lovely daughters stuck me in, right?"

At that moment there was another knock at the door. The FBI agents had their hands on their guns as the Secret Service agents opened the door but a crack. The name, 'Lafayette' was spoken in a hushed tone.

The Air Force Colonel said, "You're sprung now, Sergeant."

An agent replied, "Gilbert."

Brian rolled his eyes. He never did get used to this drama even in the Army. To him it seemed a bit put on. "Okay, guys let's get this dog and pony act on the road."

Four men entered the room one pushing a hand cart. The agent at the door could see the receptionist retreating down the hallway.

They had Brian packed in a few minutes and wheeled down the hallway to the elevator. The receptionist and nurses watched as Brian waving to them and singing, Willie Nelson's 'On the Road Again, I just can't wait to get on the road again…!' was wheeled out the door to the van. His personal things loaded in another van. An agent returned the empty wheel chair to the front desk and left.

The nurses and receptionist knew better than to say anything, not with all the heavy federal agents in attendance.

2.

Two days later Brian was lying face down in the special surgery at the CIA's hospital unit in Langley, Va. Using highly accurate laser guided instruments, the place they had to begin the surgery on his spine at the base of his neck. The surgery required an incision less than an inch long which was easily covered with one small Band-Aid when they finished. The sight of the barely visible scar when compared to traditional open back surgery's 5 to 6-inch incision was less damaging and less chance of problems. The two surgeons completed the work in less than four hours. They waited two days before working on his legs where he was hit by machine gun fire.

While he convalesced after the first and most important operation a team of physicists and astronomers were escorted to the suit set aside for him. The suite was bigger than the room he had at the nursing home, a shoe box in disguise.

Following breakfast, for Brian a hard roll and mug of coffee. He finally had to show the staff how to make the coffee to his liking – strong. Otherwise, he could have, within reason anything he wanted to eat, read, music. He was being treated like a VIP – which the doctors of astronomy and physics where doing. After breakfast there was a brief knock at the door. It opened:

"Sergeant, I have the physicists from NASA to see you." The chief nurse said past the open door.

Brian turned the wheel chair away from the window holding his hand out to the doctors. Shaking hands he stopped coming eye-to-eye with a good looking brown eyed brunette. He wanted to ask what her background was but kept himself in check. He smiled, giving her hand a slight squeeze. "Welcome."

"Astronomer," she said as if reading his mind assuring he understood what her role was.

There were two astrophysicists, the lady who was an astronomer, and another Doctor who was head of NASA's theoretical physics and cosmology departments, all of three and another lady who was a paleontologist and social worker from Harvard. A CIA director was in charge of the group.

Extra chairs were quickly brought into the room for everyone. The door opened one more time a nurse hurried in with a hot air pot with coffee and cups.

"Sorry folks the Sergeant cannot survive without his coffee." She breezed in with the air pot and cups, set it on the table and left with the empty pot.

CIA agents secured the door standing outside in the hallway.

The director waited until the door was closed to begin. In a solemn tone he said, "Sergeant, what you have been chosen for is a very top secret mission. What you have been chosen for, Sergeant Lee is a very dangerous job, you could say this is a one-way suicide mission.

"Coffee anybody?" Lee ignoring the group moved his coffee mug to the pot. He'd heard that line of reasoning before. The group shook their heads. Pouring himself another mug of coffee, the size of a soup bowl, Brian sampled it. "Not bad. Well, if the mission – whatever don't kill me, then the coffee will." He took another sip of the coffee. "So you're saying this is a one-way trip, all expenses paid joy ride to hell and back is a suicide mission al a cart, eh? I've heard that before. So what do I have to do that involves a couple physicists, an astronomer, and whoever else here?"

Dr. Bernhard the astrophysicist glanced toward the Director. "Sergeant do you know what Black Holes and Worm Holes are – I suppose?"

"Heard of them. Didn't spend a whole lot of time on the subject. As Black Berets we didn't need to. But go on."

"Okay, let's try to keep this simple. A **black hole** is a region of space-time from which gravity prevents anything, including light, from escaping. Wormholes on the other hand officially known as an Einstein–Rosen bridge, is a hypothetical  topological feature of space-time that would fundamentally be a shortcut through space-time. A wormhole is much like a tunnel with two open ends, each in separate points in space-time. For a simplified notion of a wormhole, visualize space as a two-dimensional surface. In this case, a wormhole can be pictured as a hole in that surface that leads into a 3D tube (the inside surface of a cylinder). This tube then re-emerges at another location on the two-dimensional surface with a similar hole as the entrance or exit. An actual wormhole would be analogous to this, but with the spatial dimensions raised by one. For example, instead of circular holes on a two-dimensional plane, a real wormhole's mouths could be spheres in three- dimensional space."

There was silence for a moment. It was said you could have dropped a pin in the room it would have sounded like a bomb going off. Brian set the empty mug down. "Okay, Doc if you say so. Now what does all this confusion have to do with me and whatever the mission is I have been chosen for?"

Doctor Mary Kelly, the astronomer said picking up the discussion, "What Dr. Bernhard is describing is a hole through space – possibly our universe to another. That's explaining it as simple as we can. The probes have allowed us a picture window view on another galaxy – or universe – world. Probes have successfully traveled from our galaxy to this other world system and back over the past four years. No problem."

"A hole in space? The legendary back door to another universe often talked about in sci-fi and fantasy books?"

"Yes. But more than that." Doctor Howard said pressing on. "The worm-hole she is eluding to as a hole you could equate it to an old fashion key hole has opened up a portion of space in the vicinity of the Gemini Constellation. We don't know for how long it will last. But we do know this you can fly a fleet of space craft through it."

"That's nice, Doctor but you still haven't answered my question. Why me and what am I – supposed to do with this worm-hole if you will?"

Brian sensed everyone took a deep breath before continuing on. So far they were beating around the subject, not coming straight out telling him what they wanted. The hesitation told him volumes, he was expected to make a one-way trip through a worm hole in space for some reason; albeit, a suicide mission.

Dr. Marion Schaffer said picking up the tread of the briefing, "An opening in space was discovered some years ago – worm holes until than the holes were little better than a mathematical theory. NASA sent two probes up disguised as weather satellites that were subsequently lost in space. Which they were not. The probes are equipped to send and receive signals from the worm holes. Both probes made it to the holes four years ago. Granted there has been a tremendous lag time in the signals reaching us, but it's the best we can work with at this time. They found a planetary system on the other side of the hole not too much unlike ours. The environment is identical to Earth's. However, there's a catch."

"Which is …?" Brian said pouring himself another mug of coffee. "There usually is. But go on."

"This planetary system we're calling Pandora we think there has been civil unrest and it may lead to a war."

Brian sipped the coffee more to prevent himself from openly laughing. He was far from impressed by the sound of this mission. "Think? In other words, you're telling me this can turn into a useless all expenses paid trip for nothing."

Dodging the comment, Dr. Schaffer said, "We're still waiting on more data from the probes."

Setting the mug on the table laughing, he said, "What do think we've been doing for the last ten years, playing grab ass with the Al-Qaida and Taliban, and their kissing buddies the ISIS? We have just as many problems here. Why go running all over the galaxy chasing after – what could turn into a 'red herring' operation?"

"The point is, Sergeant," Dr. Winter said patiently, "from images transmitted back from this world by the probes this appears to be an advanced civilization which has not reached the advanced stages of space travel yet. If they did it has been lost in an ancient war."

"To answer your question, Sergeant," Dr. Timothy Charles said in a condescending tone, "Yes, admittedly we have problems here too. But if we can help someone else, even an extra-terrestrial race such as the people of Pandora, maybe a mutual benefit will arise from this mission."

Brian was afraid of the answer he would get in response to his next question. He knew they wouldn't be standing in his room if they weren't serious about this mission. And he wasn't being given much of a choice in this either. "That's nice, now what do you guy's – and gals expect out of me?"

Dr. Winter said with a flat tone, "To travel through the worm hole to the other world and help the rebels."

Brian felt as if he had the wind was knocked out of him with a sucker punch. "Wait a minute. What makes them so special that someone needs to go through this worm hole to act like the Marquis Lafayette to these people? What if when I get there they tell me – our war, take a hike, Jack?"

"We've thought of that." The CIA Director said speaking up for the first time. "Once you've demonstrated your skills it will not take much to convince them you're on their side. A couple successful operations and you're in like Flynt."

"Um, wait a minute guys, if you've forgotten I'm retired. When did I raise my right hand again to reenlist in the Army?"

"The day we picked you up from the retirement home in Colorado," the Director told him.

"Oh thanks for telling me about that small item. You're awfully darn confident this will work. And doing it at arms-length across a couple galaxies no-less."

"We're confident it will work."

"You guys have told me that before too."

3.

The starkness of the recovery room was like a blank movie screen. He lay partly in and partly out of consciousness still recovering from the first phase of the surgery. The recovery time took longer than the surgery. ' _Like some shows on television, the commercials last longer than the show._ '

' _One way. No way back, no getting the job over with and come home. I'll be stuck there for life. The man without a country – or world to go home to_.'

Following breakfast he was taken down to the third floor where a conference room was commandeered by the group and Brian moved into it in a wheel chair. The afternoon session he was shown some of the first images of the planet or world they dubbed Pandora.

"Why Pandora?" he asked looking at a close up of the planet.

"Surprises."

There was not much Brian could say to the comment except, "Really."

Doctor Charles, the paleontologist got up picking up the remote control, thumbing the switch he began, "The system is not much unlike ours. The sun, a first magnitude and the planet a G-type gravity pull the same. Except for the geological makeup of the continents Pandora is identical to ours, oxygen, the various inert gases, water, and so-forth. The names of Pandora and the forgoing continents and cities we liberally borrowed from our own galaxy and star systems. A few may be familiar to you. There are five major continents, the one we're interested in, number four of the five, Rigel we call it is where the conflict is occurring. What we have been able to observe of Rigel and its society to date is a 'haves and have not' people. We've noticed a vast difference between their capital city we call, Cannes to include ten major cities, a megalopolis, a marked economic and social difference which we see as a contributing factor to the civil unrest. The great divide in their society."

Brian stared at the video screen which showed the city of Cannes than a rural town one of many that reminded him of a town they could have plucked out of the coal mining hills of West Virginia. "You said there were five continents, what about the others? What are they doing?"

"Apparently they are stable at this time. But then that can change over time."

"What are they doing to help?"

"We don't know."

The Doctor flicked the slides until he showed a close up of a group of the natives.

"We believe these are the rebels." He flipped through several more slides and two short videos. "They're roughly five-five in stature, part simian, part human, or humanoid."

"And the so-called opposition?"

He flipped over to show the mid-town portion of a city. "Human-like. Just about everything we have on Earth they appear to have."

"That could become an understatement, Doc."

"Stature of the human type species averages six foot or roughly seventy-two inches."

Brian looked at the notes on the pad of paper he was keeping track of. Next to him was his ever present hot-air pot of coffee. There was coffee for the others, but to Brian, it was not strong enough to suit his taste.

"Do those other continents appear as screwed up as this one?"

"No. Sirius for example appears just the opposite. A good economy, the social structure appears stable. But that is saying under the surface there isn't political problems or some kind of unrest which plaques every social structure."

Sipping his coffee as a way to give him time to think Brian sensed a missing link in the structure of their briefing. It was always the missing link in any briefing before a major operation that causes problems.

"Where are they at now – socially – politically, probably your guess is as good as mine, right?"

"Rigel - Politically, we can only guess from observation – a poor state of affairs exists."

4.

The surgery on Brian's legs took four and a half hours, he was still out by lunch time. The surgery and recovery took the better part of the day, the time gave the briefing team a chance to study new material the probes were able to send back through the hole.

The CIA Director zoomed the image to the closest he could get it. Aerial photography experts along with the physicists and astronomers met in another conference room of the sprawling complex.

"It's hard to tell at this point but it appears there has been a lull in the rebellion, which isn't saying either side is not planning their next move," Dr. Winter said gesturing to the aerial image of Cannes. "Now remember we're talking about a lag time of several hundred light years."

The CIA Director rubbed a hand over his mouth. Looking at the program manager he said, "He's being operated on right now as we speak. The surgeon estimates two weeks recovery and therapy. How soon after that can you have Sergeant Lee ready to go to this Pandora?"

The scientist looked at each other than Winter said, "Possibly a month."

"A month!"

"Flight training," said Dr. Kelly surprised by the Director's reaction as if he was not already aware of that small detail.

"He is flight trained on everything from C130's to C141's and in between. Only thing he hasn't flown is F16's. A week for the Shuttle I can see."

"Oh," said Winter. "He is …"

"Yeah, flight qualified. Black Berets like most Delta Force hold dual Commissions in the Army and Air Force."

That revelation changed everything for the scientists.

The briefing team sat around the conference table looking at the video screen. Dr. Mary Kelly watched Brian out of the corner of an eye. Lee appeared hung over, the after effects and reaction to the drugs the **anesthesiologist** gave him prior to the surgery and afterward.

Brian poured himself another cup coffee as Dr. Winter and an intelligence officer, an expert in aerial photography briefed him on the updates. The NASA and the CIA were pulling in updates from the probe as fast as the system allowed. "So as far as you know, sir nothing of significance has happened since last week?"

"No. We're still tracking developments as we speak, Sergeant." He glanced at the Director. One term, among many Brian hated was 'as we speak.' To Brian the term had little use and no relevance.

"Okay, the Director knows and I guess Dr. Winter knows, I am being fast tracked through therapy to get me out of this wheel chair by next week. Familiarization with the Shuttle down in Houston at Jet Propulsion Labs then on to Cape Kennedy the week after that. I know you guys have other ideas for me. What do you have?"

"We'll keep up with the briefings until the day you leave," said Dr. Winter.

Brian turned to the Director nodding, "I guess that about wraps things at this end sir."

Brian sat in the easy chair in front of the window sans the wheel chair. There was no such thing as an eight – five job with the CIA. The Langley Headquarters was operational twenty-four – seven. Constantly monitoring the Middle East was worse than the mess in the sixties and seventies the Russians and Chinese when he was in Germany and Korea.

Holding his coffee mug like he was holding a warm chipmunk close to his chest, he conjured up the image of his dear wife. Maryann who was now gone these five years, almost before he had a chance to realize his retirement from the Army. They were going to enjoy traveling together – see Europe and visit their old stomping grounds. Then the love of his life, his twin daughters, when they were five, they were miniatures of Maryann, to include temperament, especially Mary. He remembered the episode she went through two years ago explaining to him, 'why thou shalt live in a retirement home.' She was definitely her mother's daughter. Just like her mother. Maybe of the two that is why he favored Mary the most.

Brian with the twins and his grandchildren spent a day together – with their CIA chaperons in the interior gardens. The CIA brought them specially to say good-bye to the last attachment he would have to Earth; the girls understood – not only was it his duty, but one last chance to get a job done. When it was time to leave at six that evening the girls clung to him one last time.

The Gulfstream II Shuttle Training Aircraft (STA) a C11a training craft was flying close to the edge of space, Major Brian Lee scanned his instruments then glanced out the cockpit wind screen looking at the cobalt blue sky. Seated in the co-pilot's seat was Major Anna Dell watching Brian as he flew the Gulfstream C11a like a shuttlecraft.

"You're pretty good at flying. Do it much?" Major Dell said looking out the windscreen at the few stars visible.

"As much as our missions called for."

"How do you like the Gulfstream, Major?" a Captain asked.

"This? Like flying a C141 with two HUMVEEs, a Duce and a half, and two sticks of Black Berets along for the ride."

Major Dell looked back at the other, "Answer your question?"

A loud bang shook the Shuttle craft training building at the Jet Propulsion Labs in Houston. The astronaut students and facility gritted their teeth. Brian Lee just crash landed the Shuttle trainer a.k.a. the Space Wing for the second time that day. Crash landing the Space Wing was not a bad thing that's what he would have to do once he reached Pandora and his target destination. But the trick was to make it a "gentle" crash landing. So far as the instructors and veteran astronauts were concerned, the extra-terrestrials would be scrapping him up with a spoon instead.

Looking around the chamber at the NASA facility at the Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Brian reasoned 'there was no such thing as a free lunch' all this was coming with a price tag. The CIA medical staff did what the VA doctors failed to do. The civilian doctors back home were too busy with other patients to give more than a passing look at his problem. Between the two he would have been crippled for life. The CIA people worked miracles getting him to walk. They worked out exercises for him during his waking hours during the trip to Pandora. He wondered what the real name of the planet was.

There was a neat hand off from the CIA to NASA. He was given a luxury apartment at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. He spent his final days with the NASA team poring over dozens of images the probes sent back. Some of the images they could have done better using Google Earth.

Brian was shown a set of images of the inside of both craft and hatches that were cut into the floor of the craft.

"I'll put this bluntly Major," said a CIA officer showing him slides of the two craft, "both craft are booby-trapped with two, two hundred pound Air Force bombs." He held up a set of keys. Brian's face went pale. He would be riding on top of a set of flying booby-traps. "Once on the ground and the craft is emptied of everything you need arm the bombs. Period. This one is to open the cover, the other is to arm them. Twist the key and pull the pin. Once armed leave them alone. Close the cover lock it and walk away. Anyone attempting to move the craft – Boom, they get their ass blown away. That simple. You cannot disarm them, if you do – Boom."

The briefing was a sobering thought on the critical nature the mission had taken on.

Now all Brain could do was sit in his room and wait. In the past hour Brain watched the sky change to an angry iron gray shade before descending to a dull black laying its ancient shroud over the land one more time. In another several years he'd be looking at a different night sky.

Tonight was his last night on Earth. No fanfare, no well wishes. The orbiter and Shuttle and Wing had been set up in the past two days on an isolated launch pad. No one to see the launch, only the launch team. He was drinking another beer when there was a light knock at the door.

"Open, Enter."

The door opened Dr. Mary Kelly entered closing it. She reached behind her locking the door. Brian watched the black rain coat slid to the floor revealing a black baby doll. "A little sendoff farewell gift for you, Major."

The launch of the Space Wing in tandem with one of the old Shuttles, he never did learn which one would be a first for everybody. Brian wondered how they – the CIA and NASA was pulling that off. The launch was being made at his favorite hour – two A.M. on a Wednesday. Good hour, good day. There was no fanfare, no brass bands – nothing. Nobody was telling anybody about this, least of all the President and Congress – or the nosey news media. Neither Agency was saying a thing to anybody outside selected members of those two agencies – people with big mouths, especially the news media, they'd blab it all over the place, they were excluded and not told a thing. If and when they did find out it'd be too late anyway. " _Who – what are you talking about?_ "

The Orion Crew Exploration Vehicle with Shuttle and Space Wing left Earth orbit and shot straight out of the system leaving Earth far behind. Major Brian Lee would have a long nap in a special couch that was installed for him to act as the cybernetics and emergency escape capsule if needed. Brian figured ' _fat chance I'll live to see that happen_ ' was placed in deep sleep by the NASA launch team two hours before liftoff. The rocket was being launched regardless. The only things to hold it up was a Florida style hurricane, or tornado.

He slept through the launch and the exit from the Sol-Terra System. He was equipped with a high-definition computer map of his new world to show where the "hole" was located relative to Earth in relation to this new world.

5.

Inert gases and the liquid bath were pumped out and fresh liquids pumped in. Brian's cocoon was flushed out a second time, fresh oxygen was slowly pumped in along with a few microns of a gas similar to smelling salts but in a gas form introduced to revive him. No one was there to help him, no one to assure he was alive, dead, or otherwise, unless as Brian considered, a computer that did everything but serve supper in an apron and a smile.

"Hey, hone can you get the alarm? My day off…"

Maryann leaned over him to turn the alarm off. The scent of perfume and the hint of silk made him want to reach up to take her in his arms to love her.

The image faded to a glass canopy floating over him.

 _Why did everything appear as a camera lens out of focus?_ Swirls of color, a kaleidoscope of colors and shades swirled around his face.

Trying to move his arms was an effort. Trying to focus the camera didn't work. The alarm sounded a third time until the blur and mis-focused camera cleared and things came into focus. Major Brian Lee finally cleared his eyes enough to look around the crew cabin of the highly modified Space Wing riding on top of the Space Shuttle. He remembered he was riding piggy-back on the Shuttle that had all the supplies in its cargo hold he would need once he landed on Pandora. The theory was the Shuttle and Wing were to separate once in orbit and he would shepherd the two craft to the surface and a landing. Wherever that was supposed to be was anybody's guess. That would be a sight to behold.

Another few minutes the lid of the coffin like couch opened automatically so he could begin preparations for the landing in another fifteen years. Swinging his legs out to the side he felt the weightlessness as he tried to stand.

Sitting on the edge of the couch Brian cleared his mind, visions of his wife at age twenty-three when he first met her vanished like fog on a country road, the thin tendrils evaporating before the early morning sun.

" _Well my love, it now appears I'll never return to our world – I'm here – wherever that is. I always came home to you and the girls. I know they must be going nuts right now wondering if I'm alright. I did get a chance to say good-bye to them but not the way I did you. I'm about to start a brand new life – for better or worse._ "

Thinking to himself, Brian mused, "Maybe I should have gotten a copy of Douglas Adam's book, 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' that'd come in handy about now."

Struggling out of the empty bath Brian found the mirror among the several storage units set into the side of the Space Wing's compartment. Holding it up with shaking hands he looked himself over expecting to have aged – he aged, but not an advanced aging process; he appeared younger, he appeared as he did at thirty. "What did those guys give me? I've heard of miracle anti-aging stuff but thought it was a joke". Then he remembered too just before he left he was promoted to Major, US Army – Black Beret. Unless something really weird happened on this world, he'd be stuck with Major the rest of his life.

"Anyway, not a bad trade off though – Works for me."

Putting the mirror away Brian grabbed a food paste pack and a tube of orange drink made to last the journey through space, he moved to the front getting himself into the pilot's chair. Buckling himself in, he looked over the instrument cluster, and sucked down the paste.

"When was this stuff made, 1963? God I've had better MRE's in the field."

His mind still foggy from the years of sleep while in transit from Earth. Reaching over he adjusted the robot co-pilot that also acted as the navigator he checked his course. Turning on the computer and HD mapping system he was twenty light years on the other side of the hole. Basically he was there.

Sitting back Brian stared out the view screen at the multitude of strange star patterns. He was familiar with some of the patterns from Earth from field training. Special Forces and the Black Ops were trained if they didn't have a compass or map they could navigate by the stars at night, the sun during the day. If it was cloudy – oh well. Navigating by the stars wouldn't work here. Would anything work here? The CIA chiefs were confident the equipment would. Then again he lost count of the times they were wrong too.

The transit from the hole to Pandora would be another ten years. And he was halfway there. Most people would have gone slowly nuts in that time. But Black Ops and Black Berets were trained to work alone, unlike NASA's people. Maybe that is one reason he was chosen for this mission, his Black Ops training.

Using self-induced cybernetics Brian would put himself to sleep for periods of time then come out of it at selected intervals. After awakening the third time he was in the middle of his isometric exercises, trying not to talk to himself when the buzzer alerted him he was closing on the planet.

"About damned time. What took ya so long? Stop at Starbucks for coffee and crumpets?"

He pulled himself along the stanchions to the pilot's seat. Getting into the seat and buckling himself in Brian looked the instruments over. "Must be almost there."

Calculating his position on the computer Brian ran the figures two more times just to be sure. He wanted to toss the pen across the cabin but with his luck it'd sit there in mid-air and not go anywhere. He still had two more months of transit time.

"That was the warning bell. Two months and counting. Wonderful way to run an insurgency operation."

Brian moved back to the couch he converted from a bed to a recliner. He sat back in the couch staring at the myriad of stars out a port window until his eyes were too heavy with sleep to stay open any longer. Maryann floated before his mind talking softly, her voice a soothing touch to a weary soul.

" _Wake up, Brian. Wake up…_ "

Brian sat bolt upright. "Oh shit! How long was I asleep?"

Sitting up he realized he'd entered Pandora's gravity well, the magnetic field, the Van Allen Belt that surrounds a planet was drawing him in. Moving to the front, gravity began having an effect on him now. Taking the craft off the robot co-pilot but leaving the auto-pilot on he attempted to adjust for the drift and praying he did not over shoot his target land mass and land on the wrong subcontinent.

6.

"That was useless," Diaz Guz muttered, his prehensile tail waving around in frustration as the group sat around the fire staring up at the pre-dawn sky wishing someone would help them with their revolution.

"They had it all over us," the young girl, Rosa Aree added playing with the tuff of fur on her tail then using it to dry her eyes.

They spoke for their friends. They had lost six more that day. Another six they could ill afford. Their backs were to the wall and no one among the other four major regions to help take up their cause. The group sat around the fire, others looking around to assure the Loyalists, or Regime didn't try to surprise them. They knew there were other bands but they could never seem to come together. The Regime's police and army was stamping them out one group at a time.

Two of the men lifted their heads to listen.

A glowing plasma trail from the Shuttle re-entry laid a ghostly image across the pre-dawn sky traveling east to west. The kids only knew it was an aircraft but whose they did not know.

"What the hell is that?" Kyle Arm asked softly standing watching the mystery craft approach, two sets of lights pierced the early morning sky.

The others listened shaking their heads.

"Oh shit! Look…!"

The aircraft passed before they had a chance to see it passing them by in a flash of gray and white. Seconds later a loud boom sounded knocking them off their feet. A thunderous wind followed blowing the camp fire out. A second crack and boom followed flattening them to the ground.

A girl sat up looking around. "What was that?" she gasped breathing heavy seeing several trees had been up rooted by the passing of the aircraft.

Shar Ole sat up looking around in the gray light. "Everybody okay?"

"What'd the Regime do get a new bomb or something?"

"Good question."

"I've never seen anything like that before."

Azalea Bree sat up on the log again as two of the boys relight the fire. "My grandfather used to talk about aircraft that could go into space before the Great War of the States. Maybe that was one of them."

"I wonder how fast it was going?"

"Fast enough," Gale Tee replied wrapping her tail around herself. Sitting on the log resting her chin on her tan fur legs she looked around. "Fast enough to uproot trees."

The boys settled down sitting back against the log, another boy sat nesting himself between a girl's legs she caressed the comb of fur on his head to comfort him. Leaning back with a sigh he was soon asleep, the strange craft forgotten for the moment. The group one by one fell asleep trying to stay warm despite the small fire. Those on watch gave into sleep, too tired to worry about intruders or the strange craft.

The girl Azalea awoke peering skyward still thinking about that strange craft. Her mind wandered thinking about it. " _Great grandmother_ , _told me one time_ , _'If you see a shooting star in the Twilight and see it again in the pre-dawn, you will have good fortune with the one you choose as a mate.' Will that ever come true?"_

Pre-dawn was a band of silver gray light broken by the mountain ridges, the great forest that seemed to go on into eternity was black against the starkness of the hills. No one stirred at that early hour. A girl tried to get closer to her mate opening an eye to look around. She had the feeling something was happening. It was too quiet. The usual morning birds singing to each other could not be heard. It was if the birds had taken fight.

Sitting up Azalea looked around seeing the twin beams of light appear in the faint red of early dawn. In a loud voice, she said, "There it is again. I know it!"

Glancing at the altimeter Brian saw he was roughly twenty thousand feet off the ground or twenty thousand above sea level which ever was greater. He missed the LZ (Landing Zone) the drones picked out for him – and was clocking too fast he had to slow the Shuttle down some – a bit of humor – whoever the local cops were would be waiting on the next pass to give him a speeding ticket. Second problem for the shuttle, it was a one-time deal on the approach and landing, no second tries and that's what Brian was doing, two orbits. Applying the air brakes and retros he took hold of the release for the Shuttle. Something he should have done long ago. Gritting his teeth the Shuttle did not turn into a convertible he swore, "Shit!" and pulled. The Space Wing and Shuttle separated with a rapid series of bangs of the explosive caps. He wasn't worried about the retros on the Shuttle firing or not, he was worried he'd set the Wing down in one piece, not necessarily a one point landing either. The two craft flying independently of each other began slowing on the next pass until he was at MACH 1 and dropping.

Brian knew he was quickly nearing the LZ applying the air brakes one more time he dropped the landing gear. Knowing Major Lee would be landing on a grass field, the landing gear was modified with snow skies for planes landing in the Arctic and Antarctic. The two craft side by side came in for the landing. Two more loud bangs he popped the four drag-chutes slowing the two craft to half their speed. Lee grit his teeth holding on for the white knuckle ride of his life.

Azalea sat up staring at the pair of white orbs bearing down on the field. "Oh my God!" She screamed pointing at the fast approaching lights. "Oh my God! Look! Grandma, yes you were right …!"

The group sat up, staring at the white orbs racing toward the open field. They could hear the rushing and screaming of the air as the two craft touched down side by side amid a shower of rocks, dirt and grass, and smoke. The craft raced past them spraying rocks and dirt in passing.

"What is it?" Jon See said watching the craft pass in a flash of gray and white, smoke trailing in its wake.

"Don't know, let's go find out." Grabbing his weapon Diaz started running after the disappearing craft.

"What if it's a trap?" Rosa said, reluctantly following.

"Not likely. Not the way that thing came in."

In the half light of early dawn they could see the mystery craft was in trouble.

"The forest! It's heading into the forest!" Mare Ole yelled stopping breathing hard he watch the disaster.

Brian grit his teeth as the Space Wing with the Shuttle close behind set down with a lurch, rattling everything on the craft, bounced sending up a shower of rock, dirt, and grass its forward momentum barely slowing as it sped the length of the old field toward the forest at the other end the drag chutes whipping around in the shuttle and space wing's wake.

"Shit - what'd they measure this field with? Eye-ball calibration? Shit …!"

"All this for nothing!" Unbuckling the harness Brian dove to the floor bracing himself with the backs of his feet against the console. There was nothing more he could do, it was all up to the computers now; the front of the craft would bear the brunt of the punishment. The landing gear brakes on both craft burned out, the hubs on fire, the space craft free-wheeling across the fields towards the bordering forest.

Smoke and heat from the brakes and sleds set the grass on fire the space craft barely slowing as it raced toward the edge of the forest.

The group was running as fast as they could ignoring the burning grass. It seemed they ran a mile then heard a resounding crash, splintering of wood and metal continued for another minute. The two strange aircraft plowed into the forest slowing as they ran into a slight rise of ground. The nose gear on the Space Wing broke the Wing dropping to the ground digging a rut several hundred yards long before stopping.

Brian sat up breathing heavily, pulling himself up by the back of the chair to stare out the canopy at the trees and brush covering the glass. The sudden stopping of the Space Wing, he was forced forward feet first into the console stand. Another minute passed before he was certain he'd stopped, and not necessarily safely.

"I think I made it okay. I'm here – I guess. No smoke, no fire." He started laughing. He lost track of how many hundreds of years he'd been propelled through space toward this planet. How many planets had he passed by leaving the Milky Way just as worthy of his help.

But what scared him thinking about the possibilities, how many comets, planetoids and space debris did he miss on the way here? Space itself had to be the biggest free going junk yard in business.

Brian stood on shaking legs testing to make sure he had not broken anything. Walking to the back of the craft not knowing why he chose to walk to the back of the cabin, bouncing off the bulkhead and cabinets. After years in space not using his leg muscles, they were weak. Not like back home – on Earth the astronauts were only in space for a few weeks and back on Terra firma. Another, he wouldn't have the luxury of a battery of doctors pawing over him to assure he was still alive. He took a step then realized the Space Wing set at a sick angle. He considered that problem a small price to pay over just getting there in one piece.

"Well first things first, first get ready to meet whatever."

He stood shakily on wobbly legs, the soles of his feet were sore from being jammed into the console. Bouncing off cabinets and lockers, Brian made his way to the locker where his battle dress uniform hung waiting for this day.

He shed the blue one piece Air Force suit and pulled out his camouflaged uniform from the locker and heavy airborne boots. Next he pulled out his pistol belt and matched pair of Browning .45 caliber semi-automatics in shoulder holsters; a pair of Smith and Wesson .357 Magnums strapped to his waist and a pair of S&W .357 sort barrel pistols strapped to either leg. Slapping a clip in each semi-automatic he chambered a round, dropped the clip adding a round to each weapon. Now he had eight apiece. Opening another cabinet he took out a 7.62x51mm PTR 91KF Semi-Automatic Rifle with three 30 round banana clips. Tapping them in a pin-wheel fashion, over and under times three. He did four sets fixing them to his web gear. Beside it was a .30-06 Browning Safari model with 75x Black Beret sniper scope built off a Mauser action. In a second holder beside the .30-06 was a .20 gage pump shot gun, modified choke. He left them where they were for the time being.

Donning his black beret he looked at his right shoulder and the patches he was most proud of, his First Cavalry patch and the Ranger and Air Assault tabs, the left the 503rd Combat Reserve Group and airborne tab. Brian was ready to face whatever. Walking back to the front he looked down at the personnel hatch then slipped on a pair of Mylared aviator sun glasses.

7.

The group of youths finally caught up to the two wreaked aircraft. Trying to catch their breath they looked over the aircraft a minute. Flame was still burning in the thruster of one of the aircraft. The larger of the two tilted at a sick angle to the side its left rear landing gear broken, the wing dug into the ground the collapsed aircraft draped with vegetation gave it an eerie effect. The second aircraft lost its nose gear the front end dug into the ground at an angle.

The youth looked up in awe at the aircraft and strange markings.

"N – A – S – A?" Al read sounding the letters out. "And that says U-S – Air Force?"

"Wonder if there is anybody on board the aircraft?" the boy Jon See said softly as if someone would hear him.

"Wonder if they can hear us?" Shar Ole asked walking to the front, digging his way through the tangle of dug up trees and bushes.

Two boys climbed over the broken trees and around uprooted bushes to look in the window screen to the interior of the Space Wing.

"Don't see anybody … wait! Yeah there he is!" He tapped the window and waved trying to get the stranger's attention.

Out of the corner of his eye Brian saw the two humanoids peering in the windscreen at him their tails flipping around. Acting as if he didn't see them he continued his preparations. "Well can't keep them waiting. Might as well say, 'Hi" to whatever."

Kyle and Dol climbed up the trees to look in the window screen curious as to what or who was inside.

The belly access hatch swung open the youth watched fascinated as first a pair of shiny black boots appeared then legs in a strange pattern of colors then the person appeared. The man had a weapon strapped to his back and several holstered weapons.

The first thought the kids had was: _"Our worst enemy, a Medit!"_

Turning he said, "Um, hi."

Major Brian Lee stood at the foot of the ladder looking over the group of armed youth nervously waving rifles at him. Looking around lowering the sun glasses he noticed a girl at the back of the group by herself, she was watching him watching her. Brian smiled hoping if there was any communications barrier a smile would overcome it; at least that's what he leaned at the Defense Language School. First contact: Smile.

He studied the group seeing the distinctly pointed ears, the almond eyes, thin arched eye brows, the eyes a dark shade of either brown, black or dark blue; hair a light russet brown, their skin a light brown shade with four digits for their hands. He considered the fact he could get used to the people's unusual features over time, especially the prehensile tail appeared as long as they were tall with a tuff of fur on the tip.

A boy said fingering his rifle unsure how to approach this stranger, "Um, hi, um, who are you?"

Azalea felt the inner thrill of the man, tall, handsome for a Medit, dark eyes, light skin, hands that appeared to be of a warrior. Following instinct Azalea returned his smile feeling a lightness. Was this the one, a Medit contradictory to their culture who would one day not be her people's savior but her mate – her chosen one? She could only hope.

However, tails swishing in uncertainty, the kids warily watched the stranger prepared to run if necessary. Brian Lee's first priority was building trust among these strange people. But were these the people or beings he was supposed to help?

Smiling at the group, Brian said, holding hands away from the holstered weapons which they nervously eyed with caution, "Major Brian Lee, US Army, 503rd Combat Reserve Group, Black Berets." Brian was mildly surprised the youth responded, he replied. "Then I suppose my next comment should be – take me to your leader?"

Brian looked the kids over a moment. Despite the racial difference, the group were cat like in appearance, short tan or light brown fur much of the body, the eyes a dark blue or green were a distinct almond and tail with a tuff of hair on the tip, yet they held an upright stance. The ears were pointed with a tuff of hair on each, however the mouth and nose were the only part human like.

Brain felt like 'grandpa goes to war.' Although he could not guess their real age any more than they could his, he estimated they could not have been over 17 or 18 – if looks were not deceiving. Briefly looking around the forest he saw the swath of destruction the Shuttle and Space wing cut across the field the space craft caused. _'Damned, I did that?'_

He looked back at the small group. "I suppose this might be a good time to ask the popular question: Where am I?"

The kids looked at each other seeing who would answer him first, then the girl Rosa said, "You're not from Endora or Letener?"

"Endora, Letener? Is that a world?" The group nodded. "Um, no. I am afraid not. I've been sent from Earth – the United States of America to help. What we identified as a rebel faction against a totalitarian regimen. By the way what's a Letener?"

The kids looked at each other surprised.

"Our country, but we're Tonits, the Medits like you put us down," said Azalea shyly moving to the front. The others nodded their agreement. "Well you're in Letener and we're from Casewell. Our town – at least what's left of it."

"Was our home," the girl Gale Tee told Brian.

"Yeah," Mare said bitterly. "Was."

Brian crouched leaning back against a flattened landing gear tire. "Okay, tell me what happened to your town."

Despite racial difference he was slowly gaining their trust listening to them. Crouching, leaning against the tire, hands away from weapons he was less threatening to the youth. Paleontologists and physiologists told him this was the critical phase of first contact – gaining a people's trust. He remembered making contact with the **Montagnard** tribes in Vietnam.

Tails among the group swished with agitation as they recounted the atrocities against the Tonit people. The atrocities – if it wasn't for time/space and distance – in light years, what they were telling him sounded like a chapter taken from Earth and the Middle East or Africa.

Jon, their leader quickly spoke up. "The rebellion against the Meds started in Casewell four years ago. About five months ago the Regime bombed the town."

"My parents were killed," Dol See said tears showing at her eyes. A boy held her comforting her.

"And my family," Kyle Arm added bitterly. "This is my family now.

"And we've been hoping for somebody to help us, one of the other regions or lands," their leader Jon See told him a passionate plea for help was on the tip of his lips.

Brian had to be thankful on the one hand he was right on the mark. Raising a hand he said, "Well it looks like my bosses were right for once. They sent me to help you with your revolution."

"Fantastic!" Jon cheered. "We don't know how much longer we could have held out against the Medits. We're losing committees or groups every day."

The kids were cheered up there was help, any help they could get. The group introduced themselves to Brian.

Jon See and his sister Dol, Gale Tee, Al Slone, Rosa Aree, Kyle Arm, Diaz Guz, the Ole brothers, Shar and Mare, and Azalea Bree. Brian shook hands with the group but he felt himself linger with Azalea. Curiously he felt an attraction to her, an infatuation. Although to Brian she was an extra-terrestrial and he, an extra-terrestrial to her, despite the racial differences they almost seemed strangely attracted to one another. She smiled alluringly to him the invisible sparks of first love passed between them.

He looked around the group except for a couple, tails between boys and girls were intertwined and a couple formed the symbol of a heart.

"Is there anything left of the town?" Brian asked looking at Jon See crossing his arms knowing that answer already. His job was starting now.

"Some – a few homes, damaged. A couple stores still stand. The Medits are occupying a couple of our towns."

Brian was silent a moment. He had the idea now listening to the kids, all of them age wise could have been his son or daughter. This rebellion sounded like it was off to a bad start. But it could still be turned around in the favor of the rebel's cause. Most rebellions started off with a bad beginning until somebody rose to the occasion to get things organized.

Glancing over his shoulder toward the Shuttle in the cargo bay was over fifty-three thousand plus pounds of weapons, ammunition and critical supplies to kick start their revolution in the right direction. Standing he said, "Is there such a thing as a tractor and a couple stake side wagons?"

Mere said, "I don't know about a tractor, but I can get a tow-along and wagons."

"Whatever. The Shuttle craft has five large cargo containers with weapons, medical supplies and other equipment that need to be off-loaded. And hidden."

"We can help!" The Ole boys ran off into the woods to get the tractor and wagons.

Moving close to Brian, Azalea said, "Their father owns a big farm south of here."

"When I get a chance that I want to see. I was raised on a big cattle spread." Brian walked over to the Shuttle Azalea followed. Opening a panel big enough to fit a gloved hand in Brian opened the hatch. "While they're going for the tractor and wagons I'll open the cargo bay doors. And we can get things lined up for the unloading."

The access door slowly swung down with the whir of hydraulics then the ladder dropped down. The kids tried peering up the open hatch into the dark interior. He looked back, Azalea standing at the foot of the ladder the kids gathered around watching him.

"Wait here I'll turn the lights on," he told them climbing into the craft to an electrical cabinet to turn interior lighting on inside the Shuttle's mid-deck. He gestured for them to climb inside. "Be careful of your tails. There is more room here then the Space Wing which is a compact by comparison. Okay. Now, I'm not an expert on one of these flying cargo trucks. What takes the people who run these space rigs four years to learn to operate, they gave me a crash course in two weeks. Where we're standing is divided into three distinct sections. The lower deck of the crew compartment primarily contains life support systems, electrical systems, environment control, waste removal, fire protection, communication and radar systems used for docking and other systems and its crew.

"The mid-deck and the flight deck are the living and work quarters for the crew. The left-side contains an entry hatch as you see you continue along the shuttle you see the front wall that has cabinets and drawers. The cabinets have Velcro strips, which help to keep things from floating around while we're in space where there is no gravity. Drawers have a mesh covering that helps to prevent things from floating around. The mid-deck also has the galley or kitchen where the food containers are stored. The kitchen has storage compartments, food warmers, an area for preparing food with warm and cold water outlets and metal trays for the food to keep it from floating. The mid-deck also has storage lockers for the crew and exercise equipment, which the astronauts use regularly. The shuttle has laptop computers which the astronauts use for work and for communication purposes.

"Next the flight deck is the control center of the space shuttle, located above the mid-deck. Here the mission commander and the pilot control the space shuttle and the mission specialists control the shuttle's robotic arm, which I'll show you how it works once Phil gets back with the tractor. The control panel for the robotic arm is located on the wall on the left. Two windows above the control panel give the astronauts a view of the cargo bay. The front of the shuttle, or the nose, is where you will find two seats. The left one is for the mission commander, while the right one is for the pilot. Opposite what most planes set up is. Pilot on the left, co-pilot on right navigator to the rear."

The kids were awe struck by the Shuttle's complex interior. Brian opened the door to the cargo bay. Using the remote control he opened the cargo bay hatches. The hatches slowly opened with a whirring of electric motors and servo's exposing the cargo containers to the planet's sun.

Once the two bay hatches were open Brian held his breath as he began working the Canada Arm checking to assure it worked after the long trip across two galaxies of space and time, plus the crash landing. Heaving a sigh of relief he maneuvered the arm back and forth testing it. "Good everything works."

As he worked the Canada Arm testing the controls, he felt a set of eyes on him. He looked back at the group then looked down to see Azalea – in his mind, a cute girl captivated by the Stranger's words, her tail held straight showing her happiness. He couldn't help but smile.

"Now to empty the Shuttle of the small stuff, let's start emptying this stuff out, put it off to the side where it'll be out of the way when they bring the tractor back."

The kids were understandably curious as to what the items were and used for. He wondered what their society was like. It was definitely a society of the haves and have not's, he knew that. A half hour of steady work, the loose equipment was unloaded. Looking around the inside one more time he checked to assure he had everything, and the bay ready to empty the containers.

Brian led them over to the Space Wing to begin emptying it out of everything he'd brought with him. He passed equipment and supplies to the kids to put outside. He began emptying cabinets and drawers of everything he could remember NASA, the Air Force and Army sent with him. The kids helped him take things outside to lay to the side of the two craft.

8.

Everything was placed in neat rows the kids standing to the side proud of the job. Looking over the piles of equipment he found the packing case he wanted. Opening it he said, "Meet my girlfriend."

"Your who…?" several said confused as he took the rifle from the packing case.

"An M240E1 built by FN Manufacturing in Raleigh, North Carolina – Good ole US of A. Belt fed or magazine fed. The Shuttle has twenty more like it and ten of the infamous M249, and my favorite – six M79 40 mike-mike grenade launchers. I'll explain all this later. In other words I brought enough hardware with me to supply two groups of ten members each and have our own private war."

The kids were amazed at the wealth of supplies the Major brought with him.

Brian set the M240E1 outside the case opening the feed tray cover then opened a box of ammunition. Loading a belt of 100 7.62x51 millimeter ammunition he jacked the charging handle back letting go chambering the first round with a distinct _click-clack!_ Then strung the other two belts of 100 rounds over his shoulders in a cross over. Brian heard the distinct sound of rustling grass and snapping of twigs. He had to admit he wasn't exactly quiet about his entry to this place either but finesse goes a long way in success. Looking up he saw a group of red jacketed men approach from the wood line.

"Oh no," the girl Azalea said in a soft but frightened voice, "the Regime police."

Brian looked up again as the ten red and blue uniformed troops crossed the field toward them brandishing weapons. Brian could not tell what they had for weapons but he smiled, his first test in this society what appeared to be a dysfunctional revolution taking place. "Good, bad, otherwise?"

"Bad. They're the ones we've been fighting," she said her voice uncertain.

"We've been fighting a losing fight with them," Jon told him backing away.

"And they don't strike me as too friendly anyway." Striking a 'devil may care' pose Brian said, "Come ta, Papa. You kids get behind the fallen trees – and stay low. The shit is going to hit the fan real fast." Kneeling he acted as if he were doing something on the ground. Glancing up as the soldiers were getting closer he watched them stop to look at the engine pods of the two craft then look at him as if trying to put the two together in their minds. One spotted Brian kneeling over something.

The one who Brian guessed was an officer or senior NCO noticed the uniform he wore was a strange multi patterned clothes and strange hat on his head, and his ears were rounded like theirs, yet he was talking to a group of Tonits as if he were not aware of the physical and racial difference.

Looking up Brian watched their cautious approach. Stopping most of the troop continued to stare with awe at the two space craft then again at Major Lee.

The officer ordered, "Drop your weapons." Two soldiers with the officer advanced toward him. "By order of the Regime. And you others throw your weapons down – come out with your hands up."

The other soldiers looking up at the space craft were astounded by the two craft and the depth of the swath of destruction they caused, not paying attention to the Stranger.

Brian looked up at the officer as if he did not understand. Speaking in Swahili he confused the officer. Smiling, he pointed to his ears gesturing he did not understand. Azalea stood to the side watching confused by Lee's shift to a language she did not understand.

Slipping the assault sling over his shoulder Brian did not look over his shoulder he knew the girl was behind him. He softly said to Azalea, "Stay behind me."

The officer, frustrated said, "What are you doing there? Who are you, sir and where do you come from? Answer me!"

The officer approached closer, Brian was able to see the ears, the signature difference between the two races plus the lack of the prehensile tail. The eyes showed the distinct almond shape, the eye brows less arched the skin a dark shade of beige. In contrast Brian's skin was nearly white from the years on the Space Wing. He knew then he'd be in for an interesting "ride" with the two races of people. He was quickly finding himself to be the "odd" man out, despite being closer in appearance to the dominate race the Medits.

Brian stood resting his arms on the machine gun the belt of 100 rounds dangling from the feed tray. Appearing relaxed, he flipped the safety off resting a finger on the trigger he said in a sarcastic tone, "Well now that depends dude, probably about two weeks ago I coulda' been yer best buddy. But today? Well, by tonight, I may be yer worst nightmare."

The officer was scrutinizing Brian closely, especially the ears and eyes wondering what he was doing with what was obviously an inferior race.

Curious he said, "What?"

Brian clicked the selector to automatic and swung the machine gun around, pulling the trigger at the same time sweeping back and forth twice. All ten lay on the ground dead.

One by one the kids looked up as he took the machine gun off his shoulder. "Okay, let's get these guys off to the side out of the way. Grab all the weapons and ammunition. Put the weapons to the side with my other weapons. We'll need `em."

When the stranger killed the entire troop he sealed his fate with the rebels. Taking a playing card, a black Ace of Spades from a pocket he walked over placing it in the officer's mouth, ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the BLACK BERETS, Delta Detachment, 503_ _rd_ _Combat Reserve Group.'_ He got the playing cards from his former commander before departure.

A few minutes' later two tractors towing wagons appeared. The two boys on one and an older man on the other. The older man stopped as he approached the two space craft. The boys looked dumbfounded at the bodies of the soldiers laying in a neat row near the trail.

The older man, Ja Ole tore his eyes away from the two ships looking at the stranger in shock. Bringing a rifle up one of the boys yelled, "No! Don't!"

Ja looked at the boy. "Why, he's a light skin – a Medit."

"No," the boy yelled, "he's our friend."

The old man looked from Lee to the line of bodies. "Who killed the police?"

"He did – Brian did it," Azalea said standing in front of him almost possessively wrapping her tail around him.

The other looked at her puzzled. "True?"

The other kids nodded.

"He did," Diaz said looking over at the line of bodies. "With that strange weapon."

Ja Ole looked from Brian to the strange space craft. "This is a strange omen. We will be free."

"This means we'll have success now, father," one of Ja's son's said under his breath.

"Then we best get on with the unloading." Brian directed Ja to pull the tractor and wagons between the two craft.

Brian climbed back in to the Shuttle to maneuver the Arm to carefully pick up each container. He hoped the Arm would hold the heavy containers. The Arm was meant to be used in the weightlessness of space, not on the ground and pull of gravity. Placing the first one on the wagon, holding his breath the Arm didn't break and the containers would fit on the wagon. The container fit perfectly. Turning as he picked up the next one he looked back to see Azalea, as he called her name which[HED1] [HED2] was hard to pronounce. He smiled showing her the control box.

"Here, want to try it?" he asked showing her how it worked.

He let her pick up the next container swinging it out over the side to the empty wagon. Jar directed her where to place the container carefully picking up each container. Azalea looked up at Lee thrilled he was letting her work the Arm's controls. Brian smiled showing he was happy she caught on so quick.

The girl, Endnorra or he called her Azalea, was nervous as she picked up the next container lifting it past the open bay doors out to Ja and Shar who were directing the loading of the wagons.

Brian felt something for the girl as he watched her. Slight near human figure that he could not help but stare at. Azalea stood with her back to him as she manipulated the control box. He admired her waist long hair that seemed to be a trait among the Tonit girls until they were of marrying age. In Brian's mind, Azalea was all girl.

Within a short time all the containers were loaded and tied down on the wagons with load holding straps Brian pulled out of a storage locker. The extra weapons and things were loaded in the space available. The kids climbed on the loads singing glad the rebellion would go their way now.

Inside each craft two two hundred pound bombs were placed in each craft's belly. Everybody outside he opened a cover on the floor with the first key, pulled a pin arming the two, two separate cabinets at floor level he opened a set of small doors to pull the pin placing the two, two hundred pound bombs used by the Air Force on standby mode. When the bombs in both craft were armed, if the Regime attempted to move the craft, which they would the two space craft would instantly blow simultaneously.

"Set," he said to himself carefully closing the cover and locking it. "And once I leave this place I'll be stuck here for life, whether I like it or not." Looking at the pin, he mused, "Pin? Who were they kidding? This is nothing more than a hand grenade pin. Guess I'll keep it as a memento of my past."

Placing the key and pin in a pocket he climbed out of the Space Wing for the last time.

9.

The Ole farm was large by Letener standards, which to Brian meant Ja was very successful as a dairy and grain farmer.

Brian slipped off the wagon to the ground.

Ja and the youngest son pulled the tractors with the wagon loads into the barn. Brian looked around the barn. "Now until it can be distributed, where can we hide everything?"

"Under the hay?" Their leader Jon See suggested kicking at the straw and hay.

Ja and Brian looked the barn over. "That's the first place they'll look. But …"

Brian stepped into an empty pen. Kicking the soiled straw aside, he looked under the straw. "Hopefully these guys have a lousy sense of imagination."

"What do mean?" Ja said watching Brian standing in the middle of the pen.

"Jon," he pointed to Jon, "was partly correct – bury everything we don't immediately need – under the straw. And there is a lot so the holes need to be deep. We'll need five stalls. And thank god this is a dirt floor."

They pulled the soiled straw out with rakes piling it in the middle of the floor.

Ja's wife silently stood at the open door quietly watching the kids dig the holes. The stranger working alongside the kids. Yet she was leery of him, he looked too much like a Medit but the kids said he was from off world sent by his people to help them.

"He's alright, Mother," Ja assured her, patting the woman on the shoulders and kissing her neck. She smiled kissing her husband as they linked tails. "He is from off our world sent to help us with our cause."

"Jenna and I will fix supper for everyone."

"I want to help, Mother."

"Later," Ja told her with a smile for his youngest child, "You can help spell the ones working."

The girl was satisfied with the answer following her mother into the house.

Soon the supper was ready. Washing their hands the kids lined up at the kitchen door, Jenna handing each one a plate and flat ware. Brian and Ja stood back watching.

Ja said curiously, "You don't join in?"

Grinning, Brian said, "In my Army the NCO and Officer let the troops go first, then they're served last."

Inclining his head, Ja motioned he understood. Brian was worried his metabolism would reject the food until he had a chance to acclimate to the environment and sustenance. He and Ja were served. Ana assuring Brian had plenty. Brian sampled a bit, the kids watching him. Brian didn't feel any ill effects then finally finished it, hungry, the only food he had from earth was the tubes of paste and drink mixture. Ja's wife Ana served what appeared to Brian a burrito with rice and black beans mixed together topped by a salsa.

Brian's eyes light up. "Hey. This good. You know what this is like?" Everyone shook their heads. "A Burrito, a Mexican food from my world."

"So you like this, Major?" Ana said, smiling, the Stranger liked her cooking.

"Yes. I'm originally from an area called New Mexico, Mexican cooking is a specialty there."

Finishing supper they returned to work, refreshed and ready to keep working.

Digging down deep under the pens Brian with the kids buried the supplies they did not immediately need. What they needed they buried out in the paddock in the back they could easily dig up on a moment's notice.

Late evening under lamp light they buried the last of the supplies. They rested for awhile then crawled up to the hay loft to sleep. Ana gave them extra blankets against the chill of the night. Brian settled down in his sleeping bag burrowing deep in to the loose hay.

This reminded him of the many times he slept in German dairy barns when on field problems. A short time later he felt the hay shift and someone laying down beside him.

"I want to sleep with you, Major." Azalea pressed her slight body next to him, her tail wrapping around Brian, she burrowed down in the hay with her thin blanket.

Taking his extra blanket he laid it over her. Turning, on his side facing her, Brian put an arm about the girl comforting her. That night the girl's dreams were of the Stranger.

10.

The next morning they worked on disposing of the containers. They were returning from the forest close to the farm.

"Regime!" Al Sloane hissed. "Hide."

Major Lee had Shar and Marne continue to the barn as the others ran back to a fence line and wind break. Azalea hugged up to Brian as they lay low in the weeds.

Taking out the binoculars, Brian watched the Regime police.

Jon See moved closer to Brian. "What should we do, Major?"

"Nothing right now," he said watching the police. Looking again Brian asked, "If I couldn't already guess, Jon, the guy's in the brown uniforms are military, the ones in red are the police."

"Yes."

"Okay. I'm pretty sure I know what these guys are or who they're looking for."

"The ones you killed," said Azalea a nervous tone in her young voice.

Brian reached over touching her hand. Despite what it appeared, her skin was soft and smooth, her hand was delicate as he held her. The girl moved closer, the weeds barely rustling with her movement.

"By next week they'll know they've been in a fight."

They lay along the fence watching the police and soldiers until they left. A couple started to stand up but Brian said, "Lay down. Give them a few minutes to get down the road. They're liable to turn around and come back to see if that is exactly what we will or somebody will do."

Laying down Brian watched the road. Several police and military vehicles passed but did not turn into the farm again. Living here would be an adventure all its own. He wondered what he'd become involved in. On the one hand he had no choice in the matter, on the other there was no such thing as, ' _Here's my cell number and e-mail address… call me when ya get a chance_.' But he had to admit what would make the job easier the kids were eager to learn.

"Uh, huh they're checking again. Wonderful. Nice of you guys to be so concerned."

"Think it's safe, Major?"

"Patience goes a long way in this job. You gotta judge when the best time is to move and not move. Just to sit and watch them run in circles waste their time. And you to just sit and enjoy the free show." He checked the area again. "Okay…"

For the next two days he gave classes on everything from weapons to booby-traps. Within the few days he taught them to be terrorists and guerilla fighters. Jon's group became the most industrious and deadliest cell among the rebels.

The best teacher was experience. To get the experience they needed, Brian took the kids on their first patrol. They dressed in the black one piece suits he brought with him. To help them Ana cut holes for their tails. He assured they knew what to do and how to do it. They practiced on the farm, patrolling, ambush, reacting to ambush, especially first aid.

Azalea would watch him as he worked with them. She made up her mind to be as good as him. The ancient emotion stirred within her again; she felt the physical need for a male. Attired in his BDU uniform, sans the shirt his muscles rippled as he took the group through its paces. He handled his weapon with a familiarity that brought a smile to her. She could imagine his hands on her body the way he held a rifle.

Sitting beside him she hung onto his every word, especially at night one of the kids would ask him about his homeland, his stories of his years in the Army on Earth would keep them captivated for hours. Al asked him about how he came to be on their world of Endora.

"You know what drafted means?" Brian asked with a smile around a stalk of straw.

"Yes."

"Basically, I got drafted back into the Army, and didn't even have to raise my right hand either."

Kyle said with seriousness, "In other words you were black flied."

Lee had to think about the phrase. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it I suppose."

They were on their first patrol under his guidance. His brown T-shirt, web gear, camouflage pants, black boots and black beret became his signature uniform with the rifle and brace of weapons. The object was to teach them reconnaissance in the field, patrol and selecting ambush sites or for later use.

Brian led them through a forest near a road Jon told him was a major highway. Brian wanted to say, ' _It is?'_ but refrained from the comment. The road was little better than a two lane tar packed road. The group froze at the sound of motor vehicles then quickly dove for cover spreading leaves and junk over themselves. Brian watched the road as four troop transports passed with a staff car in the lead. Brian smiled.

"After today, we'll be their worst nightmare."

Looking over a map of the region Al and Kyle obtained for him he taught them how to read the map.

Standing in the middle of the barn, he held out the map "Now I should be able to take this map, next time we go out, toss it to any one of you and have you get out in front and lead."

The concept was new to them. They were used to a subservient role in life. Now this stranger, this human in less than four days was teaching them a whole new way to fight the Medits. He took them out on patrol two more times, the third time was in the early evening getting them oriented to night patrol. He found out night patrolling was their weak point and the reason for their lack of success.

They left out from the farm just before dusk. Each person not only had the basic load Brian assigned them and each carried a claymore with blasting caps. The group reached the highway and quickly setup running the firing cord back into the underbrush. Brian checked their work then drove a marker stake in the road. When the lead vehicle reached the stake, they would blow the claymores.

"Now all we can do is wait," he said laying down getting ready. Azalea moved herself closer to him.

They only had a few minutes to settle in when a convoy heading out from a Tonit town not far away was cruising along the road, four transports and a command car the head lights on, convoy commander's flag waving from the antenna.

"That's a real give away," he muttered then squeezed the static clacker, twenty claymores blew as one.

The kids grabbed up their rifles and unloaded fifteen rounds into the burning wreckage.

Brian stood up. "Let's get outta here!"

Running past the last truck Brian stuck an Ace of Spades playing card under a wind shield wiper. ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the Black Berets…"_

Within a short time this became the monogram for the rebellion.

The group reorganized in the woods, Brian had them do a quick head count then moved back to the farm. They returned to the farm jubilant with their first success. Brian let them talk it out of their systems – good for them. They were on an adrenalin high from their first success. Later he cautioned them to accept failure and success together, not every mission was going to go according to plan – the enemy – in this case the Regime didn't always have a chance to read their plans.

It was late when they finally settled down. Brian felt the now familiar form of Azalea settle down in the hay beside him her tail wrapping around his waist. She leaned over to kiss him. "Goodnight, sweet heart." The girl was attaching herself to him.

Brian felt the need of the girl beside him. Reaching over he gave her a deep passionate kiss. "Night – babe."

Within a short time Brian shifted from advisor to leader. The subservient role of the Tonites made it easy for the kids to surrender leadership to Brian. He questioned the kids on every aspect of the Medites, their likes and dislikes. Habits, their social life. The military, their training how they fought, tactics, every detail he needed to know to fight them. Above all else, teach the kids how to be effective fighters.

The next afternoon Brian discussed the plan to strike another convoy. "Keep them off balance. Except this time we set up differently. Box them in catching them in the familiar L ambush. They took up position along the edge of a heavily wooded area, the road leading through a natural tunnel of trees and bushes that lined the road was perfect for Brian's plan.

They did not have too long to wait, an evening patrol was moving along the road as expected the soldiers appeared bored with the job not paying attention to their duties. Brian smiled, it was too familiar a scene. They'll soon learn.

The patrol entered the killing zone. Brian blew on a homemade whistle. The soldiers looked around for the source of the noise. Kyle pressed the clacker the center of the convoy erupted in a fireball, the kids on front and rear ambush closed in opening fire at the same time. Within two minutes it was over the kids melting back in the wood line – unseen.

After laying low for two days four cars were acquired – to Brian they were cars and operated like cars on Earth. Brian found himself immersed in the revolution leading his third raid on the Regime. They sped down the road late at night. Jon was driving the lead car when they came upon a checkpoint not far from the town.

Shar in the second car panicked. "What … hope the Major knows what to do."

Al Slone said quietly as they stopped behind Jon and Brian, "Chill. See what they're going to do first."

Jon was suddenly nervous this had not happened to them yet.

"Be cool," Brian said, "Just drive up to the check point and be cool. And I hope the others are the same way – cool. Let me handle this."

Jon drove up to the check point. The guards stood close by brandishing their weapons. Jon acted appropriately nervous. The guard stopped them.

"You're out after curfew. State your name and business." He shoved a recorder in Jon's face. "And why you are out this late – Stay in the car. This is a violation of the curfew."

Jon faltered, looking to Brian for an answer.

Brian said, acting uncomfortable and holding his groin opened the door to get out.

The police officer barked, "I said stay in the car!"

"Hey, if ya don't mind I gotta take a piss – bad!"

"Stay in the car!"

"Well bring yer back pocket over here and I'll piss in it instead. Ya want me ta do dat?"

A guard walked around the car brandishing a sub-machine gun. "In!"

The guard's mistake. He stopped to stare at the strange uniform. Brian's camouflage uniform and brace of weapons became his trademark among the Tonit revolutionary groups.

Brian quickly drew both his .45 semi-automatic pistols, shot the guard closest to him then the shot the one closest to Jon; systematically taking out the other five before they had a chance to react. Kyle Arm driving the last car raised the pistol just above the window frame. The guard did not see the pistol until it was too late. Kyle shot the guard. Within a few seconds all six guards were dead. Brian tossed a hand grenade into the guard shack blowing it apart. Dropping a card on the first guard he shot he dove back in to the car. The drivers pressed the accelerators to the floor the cars surged ahead slinging gravel and a cloud of dust and smoke.

"Twenty-seconds. In situations like that, speed, quick thinking, and efficiency are important."

"How did we do, Major?" Diaz Guz asked looking out the rear window feeling the giddiness of the moment.

"Good, especially considering we had to wing that one – and you didn't even practice for this one either. Now you know."

Azalea's ears were still stinging from what Brian said. Brian met the girl's shy look. She smiled at him.

The group paused outside of the town long enough to pull black hoods on then slowly continue in to the town. It was late night when Jon slowed driving along the deserted main street of Casewell toward the distant police station. Two trailers hooked together in a double wide replaced the building that was destroyed. Brian got a good idea of the destruction to the town. Debris, five months later still clogged the streets.

Jon pointed out the police station to Brian. "There and it looks like there are three cars in front."

Turning the lights off Jon pulled to the curb leaving the engine running. Brian sized up the situation. "Jon, you and I take the second two cars, let Al take the first. Azalea move into the driver's seat – Diaz guard. Azalea lead the others in a U-turn stopping beside the police cars to pick us up. I'll go after the cops inside – stir things up a bit. Let's go."

Brian and Jon slipped out of the car, Al Sloane followed. Azalea took the driver's seat, Rosa took Al's place. They darted across the street sliding under the police vans. The grenades were taped to the leaf springs, the lacing wire tied on the pin then the drive shaft. Al and Diaz ran back to the cars, Brian ran up to the door kicking the door in crashing back against the wall. The four police men were shocked looking up to see the green and black figure with black hood standing in front of them leveling the sub-machine gun at them. He fired emptying half the magazine in to the station then tossed his last grenade into the middle of the room and took off.

An explosion followed as Brian cleared the front steps. Stopping long enough to place a playing card under a windshield wiper he ran to the car.

"Let's get the hell outta here!" Brian said jumping into the car.

Flooring the accelerator Azalea burned rubber leaving a stretch of black patches behind.

Brian stood out front of the cave they now called their command and operations post. After blowing up the police station and two convoys four nights in a row was too much for the police and army to handle. Brian had them abandon the farm. One of the boys remembered the cave which proved spacious with plenty of room for everyone. The four cars they'd stolen were parked inside.

Early morning Brian could not sleep. Slipping out of the sleeping bag, letting Azalea sleep he sat at the front entrance staring into the thick underbrush. A soft hand caressed his shoulder, soft warm lips touched his haggard face, brushing his beard.

"Morning, lover."

Brian glanced up into the soulful brown eyes of the girl expressing her deep feeling for him; a profoundly emotional touch. Turning he put his arms about the girl drawing her down on to his lap. Strangely Brian was not repulsed by the differences in the two, rather he was fascinated by their differences. He was immediately taken by the girl. Brushing her hair out of her face he kissed her again feeling the stirring in himself.

"Now that's the kind of good morning I like."

Their lips met again in a long lingering kiss. Brian was mildly surprised there were many similarities between Earth and of Endora.

Azalea slipped her hand inside Brian's shirt feeling his hard chest. The girl's hand was smooth and warm caressing his chest. The problem was, the gesture reminded him of what Maryann used to do to get his attention. The girl's tail swishing back and forth with her pleasure. The girl was insistent kissing his face until Brian whispered in her ear:

"Later little one when we can be by ourselves – more private."

She whispered in his ear, "Yes, my lover. Always. You're my man now." Then gave his lower lip a soft nip. Brian was surprised by how forward the girl was for her possible age, but he had to remind himself, customs and social mores were almost the same but different.

"No argument there. Just we will have to take this slow to understand each other's culture and norms."

Azalea kissed him again snaking her tongue into his mouth. "Yes my love ..."

Suddenly it felt as if the world had come to an end. Two explosions rocked the ground and air, Azalea clung to Brian. The native birds took to the air in flocks darkening the morning light. They looked in the direction of the explosions as two large plumes of smoke and fire rose up in the still morning air.

The cave was emptying out of the others, weapons slung over shoulders trying to pull themselves together.

"What was that?" Al demanded looking around. "The Regime find us?"

They were puzzled by Brian's calm demeanor.

Calmly Brian said, "They found the Shuttles – and four two hundred pound bombs in the two Shuttles just went off."

Kyle said with dead pan humor, "Yeah and blew themselves up in the process. Hey what a deal …"

They watched the twin plumes of smoke, debris, and fire rise skyward for a few minutes.

Brian set Azalea on her feet. "The die has been cast. There is no going back."

11.

Shar and Mare returned later in the day with another map of the region.

The town of Casewell was marked, the place where the space craft crashed and the ambushed convoys. They studied the map and places marked on it showing towns Brian identified as likely targets.

"One thing we cannot do is establish a pattern. We need to show a degree of inconsistency and take the battle if you will to them. Another, we can effectively isolate an area too. But that's later."

The group and Brian stayed close to the cave for the rest of the day and resting. Twilight set in over the land in pinks and dark blue fading to darkness, the stars began to show, the moons rose late shedding their silver blue light over the country.

Night Brian taught them would become an ally in their cause. He took Al and Kyle out on their next mission. Rigged in black suits that were among the supplies, on the first night reconnaissance of the area. Azalea wanted to go with him, the girl wanted to be with her new lover.

"No, hone," he said softly into her ear. "It doesn't take an army to learn what the opposition is and isn't doing. Your turn to go out will be soon enough. You stay safe."

"I'll miss you," she said putting her arms around his neck letting the others plainly see the Major was hers and she was his. She joined the movement but did not take a lover until that time as the others did. Brian was the lover she wanted and would freely give herself to him when the time was right. She watched her man leave that night on the group's mission as he called it.

The three slipped out of the cave while there was a trace of light moving to the side to get their night vision. Using simple hand and arm signals Brian taught them they moved out to their first objective.

They moved through the forest until they came to the road a half hour later leading to another farming town. Brian studied the road block and check point the police had established. The check point to the Regime's way of thinking was effective, located between two hills several hundred yards apart and light up like a circus. Studying the layout through the binoculars told Brian the police and army were getting serious.

Signaling them to move on they found the police and army motor pool. He found everything within a short time. The three moved onto the town using back streets and alleys working their way toward the center of the town.

Fading back through the dark ally, Brian watched the front of the police station for a moment. Police men on patrol in the town, one small group returned from road patrol, nothing he hadn't seen before. Looking up at the moons he figured it was after mid-night. His favorite time would be two-thirty in the morning, plenty of time for the group to get on "station". Watching the front of the police station he noticed activity slowed after mid-night. Motioning to the two boys they faded back into the shadows and night. It was two-thirty when they passed their guards waiting for them.

"How did it go, sir?" Jon asked as they entered the cave past the blackout curtain.

"Good." Brian suddenly had all girl in his arms kissing him.

The other's looked amused at the girl's show of enthusiasm for her new lover.

"You're back," Azalea said between kisses, her tail whipping back and forth expressing her delight her lover was back. "I love you!"

He knew he had to give her a kiss and a passionate one later in their sleeping rolls.

Wrapping his arm about the girl he said, "Okay quick debriefing on the situation as it's called then we'll get some rest until tonight.

Brian had long ago set his watch to local time. Azalea slept soundly next to him, her breathing a soft murmur as she pressed her slight body into his strong one, her hands and tail grasping his. He wanted to sit up but couldn't, Azalea had him possessively in her grasp. He lay back for another hour then sat up gently waking her.

He said gently in to her ear, "Come on, little lover."

Azalea looked up at him with a smile. "I like waking up next to you."

Kissing her, Brian whispered, "Remember I promised you time alone."

She nodded with a broad smile her tail waving back and forth in anticipation of their time alone.

"I got a plan but we all need to discuss it first."

She nodded again then sat up.

The group light lanterns and small fires to put additional light in the cave. Within an hour the group was briefed and began arming themselves with the American made rifles the CIA sent with Brian. Everyone was outfitted in black, except Brian. Brian showed them how to apply with effect the black and green theatrical grease paint with black hoods. Then he issued each one an M4A1 carbine with scope, eight magazines taped three in a pin wheel for fast reloading then four M79 grenade launchers to use on the motor pool.

"And don't waste the ammunition. Let them – the Regime waste their ammunition – short bursts of five rounds at a time."

They were ready. Lamps and fires extinguished he walked them to the opening, the group moving through the brush and camouflage net. Brian held them by the cave entrance for a minute than nodded. From then until they returned, it would be hand and arm signals.

They trudged through the forest turning north paralleling the main road taking them past the road block and check point. On the edge of the town Brian led the group through back yards, down alleys and past stores until they entered an ally that put them opposite the police station.

Brian and Jon watched the police station for a minute then signaled Al and Kyle to move out. Jon moved up on over watch. Azalea and Jon watched the alley, the others watched the opposite end for anyone who might be out despite the curfew.

The three rushed across the street sliding under the vans, tying grenades on, wiring the vans to explode when they were moved. Brian ran up to the front door attaching a satchel charge then ran back, Al and Kyle joining him as Jon and Azalea peppered the front of the station with the rifle fire drawing the police and soldiers outside.

Taking a playing card, a black Ace of Spades from a pocket Brian stopped to place it under the wind shield wiper. ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the BLACK BERETS, Delta Detachment, 503_ _rd_ _Combat Reserve Group.'_

The group melted back up the alley merging with the shadows. Behind them was a roaring secondary explosion ripping the front of the station. They scrambled through the back yards back toward the motor pool. They merged with the shadows using stores and shops close to the motor pool for concealment. They stopped opposite the motor pool Brian took the launcher he carried, Azalea, and Shar, Mare, and Diaz nodded, the others took aim and fired, a fusillade of weapons fire was unleased on the Regime police and soldiers destroying several vehicles rendering several others inoperable.

Snapping his fingers he got their attention they moved up to the check point, the police and soldiers could not help but hear the explosions and rifle fire. They looked around knowing the station had just been hit by the rebels. The police watched around them but the bright flood lights making their night vision useless. Staying in the forest and brush, the group, as quietly as they could, moved up to within striking distance. The radio operator tried calling the station but was unable to get a response.

Several police and soldiers walked along the road looking for rebels in the weeds. Unable to see anything, the bright lights casting shadows over shadows.

Raising his hand, Brian dropped it. A soldier venturing along the road peering into the dark forest stopped at hearing a noise. A black figure stood up in front of him to open fire with the M4 rifle. Eleven rifles opened up then four M79's fired grenade launchers, two landing in the open door of the guard shack blowing the building apart. Another salvo of grenades landed among the police and soldiers. The explosions sent echoes through the hills.

The rebels melted back into the forest leaving the soldiers and police dead and dying and confused. Taking another playing card, a black Ace of Spades from a pocket Brian walked over placing the card in the officer's mouth, ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the BLACK BERETS, Delta Detachment, 503_ _rd_ _Combat Reserve Group.'_

12.

The district Army Commander and Police Commissioner stared at each other across the table. Commanders from both police and army waited until one of the two spoke. The Army Chief of Staff, Jol Con looked at the map again.

The Police Commissioner, Erl Don held his hands over his mouth until speaking, he dropped them to the table. "The activity has been north of the district. And that is where the strange craft was found until the recovery crew attempted to move it and it blew up."

"Whoever landed here in those craft knows what they're doing," Army Chief of Staff Jol Con summed up the situation. He laid five cards on the table. ' _This death brought to you courtesy of the BLACK BERETS, Delta Detachment, 503_ _rd_ _Combat Reserve Group.'_ "That should say it all."

"There was a piece of paper somebody recovered that said, 'N-A-S-A and US Air Force," one of the Army commanders said.

"We've been invaded," Jol Con said in a near whisper. "Somebody is helping the rebels. And this series of strikes has emboldened at least two other Tonit districts."

"If we can't stop this rebellion among the Tonits, it'll take the entire Regime with it inside of a year - at least."

The two senior officers turned to the other then looked at each other as if they'd had a thought. "My … is it true then? Did it really happen?"

"And they're providing aid to the Tonits?"

Police Commissioner Erl Don said sitting back biting his lower lip. "We've always been afraid of that."

Jol Con said after a moment of thought, "We've been invaded and they are helping the rebels. I'll have to let Headquarters know immediately."

Brian was able to observe Azalea under fire, she was a real trooper, a helluva shot, borne with the semi-automatic in her hand instead of a rattle. During the fire fights she stood beside her man.

Eleven expectant faces watched Brian as he leaned over the map marking it with small red pen dots the locations of the places they hit. They had with two weeks hit the Medits in ten separate raids, Police and army were attempting to raid the Tonit's but running in to heated resistance. The Medit Regimen was faced with an all-out revolution on their hands.

Looking up he said tapping the map, "Notice the pattern we've started? We have to move. The Regime is going to catch on to us if they haven't already."

"Then we need to move," said Jon meeting Brian's hard gaze. "Immediately."

Brian nodded. "And within the next couple days before they get wise – if they haven't already. A good safe place and one with three-hundred and sixty five degree visibility. This place has served well but it's time we move."

The next day the kids fanned out over the country side looking for something that fit Brian's criteria.

They met back at the cave that evening. Everybody but Al and Rosa came up empty handed.

"We found a place, Major!" said Rosa swishing her tail anxious to be the first to give him the good news.

"An abandoned farm," said Al pointing to the approximate place on the map.

Brian studied the map saying, "And barn?"

"Everything – cellars, outbuildings."

Early the next morning, Brian and Al went back to the farm. Brian looked the spread over to give it his approval.

Standing at the front door of the house gazing over the valley, he nodded. "I like that root cellar. Lots of room for storage and a place to hide if needed. We'll put the supplies in there."

Two days later within three trips to the farm with a tractor and wagons and the cars they moved themselves and the supplies. Brian and three of the boys assured all traces of their being in the area were erased. They kept the tractor and wagon off the grass areas so any Regime aerial observers did not see the marks.

Dawn the following morning the group established watches to assure the Regime police or army did not stumble on them.

Everyone rested and ready move on to the next stage of their operations. A sound attracted their attention.

"I wonder …?" Brian said looking out a window. He looked at the map again. "What's that line mean?"

"Oh that?" said Shar surprised the Major didn't recognize it. "That's the railroad line down there."

Thinking about the railroad and its access to other areas of the country, he said, "We can export our cause to other places."

The kids brightened up.

"How are we going to that, Major?" Diaz asked his tail whipping around brimming with ideas.

"Well first find the nearest town of size the train stops at and take it to the Capital. However, we'll have to set up the place for security. I'll show you how to do that. It'll take some work but we can be rest assured, the Regime will pay dearly trying to take the farm."

Early the next morning Brian showed the kids how to make booby-traps and rig the farm for rapid destruction if necessary. Starting with the simple idea of punji stacks sticking up a couple inches above the weeds, foot traps using punji stakes, barbed wire entanglements setting less than an inch off the ground. In the heavily wooded area along paths they slung heavy logs from the trees loaded with foot long spikes. Last he strung claymore mines setting them up with automatic and command controlled triggers. By evening of the second day the farm was declared secured. As the booby-traps were installed, Brian had pairs of boys rove around the farm assuring no one had taken an interest in the sudden activity.

He and Jon watched from the crest of a hill as a train sped past.

Jon looked up at Brian his tail gently waving back and forth. "You have an idea, sir?"

"Yeah, a ticket to the big city."

Moon light filtered past torn and tattered curtains hanging at dirt encrusted windows. The fire on the heath was doused at sundown and cleared to prevent sparks from being seen by a chance passerby. The group sat around the living room on dirty and dusty old furniture, or the guys sat on the floor at their girl's feet, tails laced together. Brian was quickly adopting Letener and Tonit manners. The group accepted Azalea taking Brian as her mate. Ever since joining the group and the Cause, she'd been the odd one out, not having a man at her feet. Brian looked around the room, nearly all the guys were seated at a woman's feet their attention riveted on him. The map spread out in the middle of the floor using the mini-Mag flashlight, the pen pointed to the cluster of black marks symbolizing a sizable town.

"Okay so what you're saying, Gale is, in Medit society it's accepted that a well to do or rich man have a Tonit woman, or girl as a mate?"

"Not only is she his mate and plaything but his escort wherever he goes."

He looked back at Azalea for her input. She said in a matter of fact manner, "We can do it. I'll need to get certain things for the role though."

"Okay gives us a bit of time to pull this off."

"You girls go ahead and fix Azalea up as if she were my mistress."

Dol said with a smirk her tail waving around, "Ooh, he's in for a treat."

Azalea patted Brian on the head her tail casually swaying with happiness. "He'll be the best."

He was suddenly wondering what she meant.

After a week, the Regime must have figured they gave up, the other groups, what Jon and Al learned became inactive and falling apart. An occasional Regime aircraft flew overhead but nothing to raise their suspicions. The kids were cautious during the day staying in the house.

"They don't have night or all-weather reconnaissance craft?" Brian asked Jon.

He shrugged "I guess not."

"Boy, I'd like to see what they have for an inventory. Man, between us and the Russians, we have so much stuff – aircraft that is, there's not enough pilots to use it all."

Jon wondered what kind of society Brian came from. He found it hard to imagine more equipment than the Regime could use.

The days passed quickly as everything was gathered for the trip. Two trips in the city, Azalea acting as Brian's Mistress, a traditional veil over her head covered her features, but people still knew she was a rich man's woman. No one bothered them, after a month and half on Endora Brian was able assimilate with the public.

Azalea and Brian slipped into the town, Brian dressed in a black three piece broadcloth suit, she was in a dark blue linen dress with heels and the one piece black headpiece covering her hair and features. Brian was always amazed no one, even among the Tonits picked her up as a mate. Playing the part, she dutifully followed Brian wherever he went, carefully giving him directions. Standing across from the station he noted the trains passing through stopping to let people on and off. Six trains in all.

Brian turning to look in a store window said in a cautious voice, "Hey, hone what color are the taxis here?"

Turning to face the window, she said quietly with a curious tone, "Pink."

"Why not? In a situation like this, which of us hails the cab?"

"I do." Azalea turned stepping to the curb putting her hand up. "I am your mistress. The hotel, my love?"

"Yes. She has to remind me?"

A short time later sequestered in their suite they lay across the bed Brian making notes of their observations. "Tomorrow we'll leave out at mid-morning to pick up Shar and Mare and return to the farm. What I got planned for our fuzzy buddies they'll wish I stayed in space."

Azalea lay with her chin on Brian's chest her tail casually waving back and forth. She drew tiny circles on his chest humming a tune, glancing sideward at him. A mischievous grin crossed her lips. "I don't wish you to have stayed in space." The paper disappeared out of Brian's hands. "Later – my lover. You promised."

"I did, didn't I?"

Azalea crawled on top of him. "Yes." She pressed her lips against his. "Patience my lover. You don't have to worry about us. I've willed myself not to get pregnant."

Brian was stunned by the girl's remark. "You don't have anything like birth control or – whatever?"

Thinking about Brian's question, Azalea said, "That is – I think I understand your meaning that is the Tonit method. Tonit girl's their first ten years following puberty after becoming a woman-child can will themselves not to become pregnant with a man's child – unless both agree. And we will wait until the revolution is done."

"And you?"

"I still have four years before I can no longer will myself."

"Then…?" Brian knew it was a foolish question the second he asked it.

"Then I shall become pregnant with your child."

"That's what you want?"

"Yes." Azalea was firm in her answer. She stared into Brian's eyes seeking his inner soul and thoughts. She said with feeling, "I desire that. I come to you pure and unused by other men. I am yours forever."

Brian knew he was stuck on Endora for the rest of his life. A lost soul on a desert island. He knew sooner or later he would have to go 'native' in order to survive. "As we say back home – so be it – my little lover."

Leaning down she pressed her lips against his, Brian tasting the sweetness of the girl's lips against his, her tongue sliding in out of his mouth sent shock waves through him; their lips melding in an everlasting kiss of passion. He knew then he would always be Azalea's man and she, his woman.

In a sudden burst passion and desire they tumbled about in each other's arms their hands feeling each other's body, exploring becoming familiar with each other, making love that night the girl's tail rigid with her unbridled pleasure. Azalea willingly giving herself to this Stranger from the stars who was now her lover. She was now his, and he was hers.

Pre-dawn light filtered through the rooms drapes. Brian slid his hand along the girl's back. Last night was the first time in a month that he'd seen the girl without cloths in all the time she had slept with him. Sliding his hand along her back, over the light ridge of hair from her neck line to the small of her back.

Opening an eye she smiled as Brian slide his hand along her back again, the silken smooth hair gliding through his fingers like he was petting a cat. Stretching moving herself back and forth she reveled in the new feeling Brian was teaching her. He taught her things last night her mother never got around to telling her about. Her mother was grooming her to be a rich Medit's mistress. But she would have this no other way, she was too much in love with the Earthman. And everyone knew saw in her the unabashed love for the Earthman and let it be so.

"Come on, little one we need to get going before the guys come looking for us."

They left the hotel by taxi to an address close to the alley. They looked around to see if anyone were watching. They darted up the alley Brian shedding the suit, Azalea shedding the dress to a black form fitting one-piece suit. Shar and Mare grabbing up things stuffing them into suit cases they plunged into the wood line leaving the city behind.

End Party One - The Fourth Universe


End file.
